THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


GIFT  OF 

Mrs.  Helen  A.  Dillon 


LIFE 


COMMENTS    ON   THE   NOVELS    OF 

JOHAN  BOJER 

THE   GREAT  HUNGER 

"It  is  the  first  work  of  fiction  I  have  ever  reviewed;  and  I  come  to  it  with  a  mind 
hopelessly  untrammelled,  and  a  p;eJisj,osition  of  Interest  in  its  theme.  What  is  it  we  are 
aj!  after  in  life?  Desire  to  reach,  that  is  the  great  hunger.  The  story  of  Peer  Holm  is  the 
pilgrimage  of  a  man  half-consciously  travelling  the  long  road  to  the  Ultima  Thule  of  his 
soul;  passing  unsatisfied  the  goals  of  knowledge,  of  power,  of  love,  all  the  milestones  of  a 
full  life  and  coming  very  late,  very  broken,  but  unconquered,  to  a  realization  at  the  last. 
This  book  could  only  have  been  written  by  a  Scandinavian.  It  has  the  stark  realistic  spir- 
ituality characteristic  of  a  race  with  special  depths  of  darkness  to  contend  with,  and  its 
own  northern  sunlight  and  beauty.  A  very  deep  love  of  nature  colors  and  freshens  the 
work  of  this  writer,  and  gives  it  that — I  would  not  say  national,  but  rather  local — atmos- 
phere and  flavor  which  is  the  background  of  true  art.  The  translation  is  exceptionally 
able,  and  one  would  think  that  but  little  of  the  atmosphere  has  leaked  away.  The  story 
told,  fine  and  pathetic,  is  common  enough  in  this  world  of  strenuous  endeavor,  accom- 

Elishment,  and  decline.    Peer  Holm,  at  the  lowest  ebb  of  his  worldly  fortunes,  finds  satis- 
iction  for  his  long  hunger.    A  very  fine  work,  both  in  execution  and  in  meaning." — JOHN 
GALSWORTHY  in  the  London  Nation. 

THE  POWER  OF  A  LIE 

"This  is  a  great  book.  I  can  have  no  hesitation  whatever  in  saying  that.  Rarely  in 
reading  a  modern  novel  have  I  felt  so  strong  a  sense  of  reality  and  so  deep  an  impression  of 
motive.  It  would  be  difficult  to  praise  too  highly  the  power  and  the  reticence  of  this  story. 
When  I  compare  it  with  other  Norwegian  novels,  even  the  best  and  by  the  best-known 
writers,  I  feel  that  it  transcends  them  in  its  high  seriousness,  and  in  the  almost  relentless 
strength  with  which  its  dominant  idea  is  carried  through.  Its  atmosphere  is  often  wonder- 
ful, sometimes  startling,  and  its  structure  is  without  any  fault  that  has  betrayed  itself  to 
me. 

"  It  does  not  surprise  me  to  hear  that  the  Academy  of  France  has  lately  crowned  THB 
POWER  og  A  IIE,  for  both  its  morality  and  its  excelling  power  are  of  the  kind  which  at 
the  present  moment  appeal  most  strongly  to  the  French  mind.  The  reader  will  find  that 
this  book  stirs  and  touches  him,  and  makes  him  think." — SIR  HALL  CAINE. 

THE  FACE  OF  THE  WORLD 

"A  big  ironic  book,  finely  conceived  and  very  finely  executed." — JAMES  BRANCH 
CABELL,  in  the  New  York  Sun. 

"A  fine  book,  moist  with  life,  which  stands  well  out  of  the  surrounding  banalities. 
You  will  be  depriving  yourself  of  a  rare  pleasure  if  you  do  not  read  it." — The  Baltimore 
Sun. 

TREACHEROUS   GROUND 

"One  of  the  spring  novels  which  will  probably  be  much  read  and  discussed  is  Johan 
Bojer's  TREACHEROUS  GROUND.  The  Bojer  boom  began  in  this  country  with  the  publica- 
tion of  THK  GREAT  HUNGER,  a  rather  curious  story  of  Norway  related  in  a  caressing  mono- 
tone. With  the  publication  of  TREACHEROUS  GROUND  the  estimate  of  Bojer  will,  I  think, 
gain  a  notch  or  so,  and  in  the  parlance  of  the  markets,  remain  firm.  It  is  the  most  consid- 
erable, the  most  intelligently  conceived,  and  the  smoothest  of  the  three  that  I  have  read. 

"On  the  surface  it  is  a  slightly  pensive  recitation  of  rueful  and  dramatic  happenings. 
Essentially,  though,  it  is  an  expert  and  complete  analysis  of  a  moralistic  moron.  With  the 
scalpel  of  a  deft  technique  Bojer  lays  bare  the  flabby  heart,  the  gelatinous  spine,  the  mushy 
brain,  the  feeble  viscera  of  a  pietistic  coward,  the  man  of  easy  sentiment,  ready  martyrdom, 
and  quick  remorse,  the  male  who  distrusts  his  instincts,  clouds  his  reason  with  every  sham, 
relies  upon  a  Pippa  Passes  and  Marxian  heaven,  and  wonders  why  he  fares  so  ill.  And  so 
pleasantly  interesting  is  Bojer  in  this  display  of  clinical  virtuosity  that  you  forget  to  ob- 
serve that  the  cadaver  is  more  than  a  trifle  nauseous.  At  once  a  scientific  and  artistic  tri- 
umph, combining  the  art  of  the  prestidigitateur  with  that  of  the  surgeon. 

"It  is  a  fine,  ironic  story,  none  the  less  poignant  for  its  being  bitter-sweet."— BURTON 
RABCOE,  in  the  Chicago  Tribune. 


LIFE 

BY 

JOHAN  BOJER 

AUTHOR  OF  "THE  GREAT  HUNGER" 


TRANSLATED  FROM  THE  NORWEGIAN  BY 

JESSIE  MUIR 


NEW  YORK 

MOFFAT,  YARD  AND  COMPANY 

1920 


COPTHIGHT,  1920, 
'  BY 

MOFFAT,  YAED   &  COMPANY^ 


College 
Library 

?T 


LIFE 


1060341 


LIFE 


A  FEW  days  before  Easter,  Tangen,  the 
artist,  met  his  friend  Dr.  Holth  in  the  street, 
and  stopped  him  with  a  wave  of  his  hand. 

"Why,  you're  the  very  person  I  was  think- 
ing about!"  he  said.  "You're  invited  to  Gen- 
eral Bang's  place  in  the  mountains  for  Easter, 
and  of  course  you'll  accept  with  thanks." 

Dr.  Holth  stood  with  a  bundle  of  books  un- 
der his  arm.  He  was  a  man  of  about  forty, 
square-built  and  broad,  with  a  tired  face  and 
a  dark  moustache. 

"To  the  mountains — I?  Who's  going  to  cor- 
rect my  hundreds  of  exercise-books  and  give 
lectures  here,  there  and  everywhere?  Oh,  no, 
my  friend!  A  father  of  a  family  and  school- 
master can't  do  quite  what  a  famous  artist 
would  do  1"  He  would  have  passed  on,  but  the 
other  put  his  hand  through  his  arm  and  went 

on  with  him. 

1 


2  Life 

"Now  just  listen  to  me,  Holth!"  he  said. 
"If  you  were  to  throw  off  the  bread-winner, 
schoolmaster  and  social  reformer  for  a  week, 
you'd  see  what  a  different  man  you'd  be  when 
you  came  back.  There'll  be  moonlight  and 
dancing  on  the  mountains — Weib,  Wein  und 
Gesang." 

"Don't  talk  so  frivolously  to  an  old  man!" 

"Don't  you  know  that  an  Austrian  has  dis- 
covered a  preventive  of  old  age?  It's  called 
dancing." 

Jorgen  Holth,  when  a  student,  had  been  tu- 
tor at  General  Bang's  when  the  latter,  as  colo- 
nel, lived  in  town;  and  since  then  he  had  al- 
ways been  welcome  in  the  hospitable  house, 
though  latterly  he  had  become  such  an  active 
socialist  that  he  felt  that  he  no  longer  fitted  in 
there. 

"Oh,  by-the-bye,"  said  the  artist,  "you 
weren't  made  professor  this  time  either." 

"Professor!  I!"  The  other  laughed  scorn- 
fully, and  quickened  his  pace.  As  they  went 
up  the  palace  hill,  his  tall,  slim  companion  fre- 
quently raised  his  hat  to  acquaintances.  He 
was  a  little  younger  than  Holth,  but  had  had 


Life  3 

wider  experience.  A  poor  country  lad,  he 
had  been  apprenticed  to  a  house-painter,  but 
studied  and  drew  at  night.  He  spent  a  few 
stirring  years  in  America,  came  home  full  of 
Yankee  confidence,  became  an  artist,  rapidly 
made  a  name,  and  one  fine  day  married  into 
one  of  the  best  families  in  the  country.  His 
fame  was  now  European ;  he  was  a  grand  seig- 
neur when  he  had  money,  and  a  magician  in 
finding  ways  of  obtaining  more,  always  thirst- 
ing for  new  knowledge  and  new  impressions, 
which  he  swallowed  with  the  same  healthy  ap- 
petite that  he  did  good  dinners  and  rare  wines. 
He  had  travelled  much  and  had  many  suc- 
cesses and  many  reverses,  both  of  which  he 
took  cheerfully,  was  a  sportsman  and  a  social 
lion,  and  remained  wonderfully  young. 

"There's  a  girl  going  to  be  there  who  ad- 
mires you,"  he  said. 

"Oh,  indeed!    Very  likely!" 

"She's  been  a  pupil  of  yours,  and  her  name's 
Astrid  Riis — golden  hair  and  good  figure.  And 
there'll  be  Fru  Ramm,  a  Titian  Madonna,  and 
Fru  Hiorth — well,  you  must  see  her  for  your- 
self." And  the  artist  went  on  to  give  a  list  of 


4  Life 

the  young  ladies  who  were  going  on  this  moun- 
tain excursion,  clicking  his  tongue  at  each 
name.  Holth  could  not  help  listening,  and  in 
reality  had  the  greatest  desire  to  go,  not  for 
the  sake  of  the  ladies,  but  because  he  could 
scarcely  remember  when  he  had  last  been  in  the 
country  and  had  a  real  rest.  The  end  of  it  was 
that  after  they  had  gone  a  good  way,  Tangen 
succeeded  in  wringing  from  him  a  promise. 
"Though  goodness  only  knows  how  I'm  to  get 
away!"  he  thought,  as  he  tramped  on  home- 
wards with  his  books  under  his  arm. 

Jorgen  Holth  was  one  of  those  all-round 
geniuses,  who  dart  about  among  innumerable 
things,  without  actually  getting  on.  He  had 
once  meant  to  be  a  poet,  but  as  he  could  not 
marry  on  that,  he  took  up  social  culture,  and 
even  took  his  doctor's  degree;  but  his  family 
had  to  be  provided  for,  and  in  the  meantime  he 
took  to  teaching.  As  years  passed  and  his 
family  increased,  his  temporary  occupation  still 
held  him  fast.  His  disappointments  had  by 
degrees  turned  him  into  an  ardent  socialist, 
and  lectures  and  newspaper  articles  claimed  a 
certain  amount  of  his  time.  But  the  same 


Life  5 

absence  of  sunshine  and  fresh  air  that  pre- 
vailed in  the  schoolroom,  the  working-men's 
hall,  and  his  own  gloomy  flat,  now  began  to 
characterise  his  reasoning.  When  he  had  tried 
to  become  a  professor,  he  put  down  his  failure 
to  the  intrigues  of  evilly-disposed  persons ;  and 
when  he  had  twice  suffered  defeat  in  an  elec- 
tion, it  was  once  more  persecution.  He  had 
now  become  a  pale,  shabbily-dressed  man,  who 
slept  and  fared  ill  and  was  often  fretful. 

Easter  was  late  this  year,  and  the  snow  had 
disappeared  from  the  neighbourhood  of  Kris- 
tiania,  when,  on  the  morning  of  Maundy 
Thursday,  the  crowded  train  steamed  out  of 
the  town.  When  Holth  had  arrived  at  the  sta- 
tion, it  was  some  time  before  he  succeeded,  in 
all  the  crush  and  noise,  in  finding  Tangen.  He 
had  gazed  at  all  the  holiday-clad  people,  busily 
engaged  in  getting  their  skis  registered.  Their 
faces  were  as  pale  as  his  own,  but  shone  with  an 
expectancy  that  he  could  not  understand. 

"Upon  my  word,  I  think  all  Kristiania's  go- 
ing into  the  country!"  he  said  to  the  artist  as 
they  passed  through  the  waiting-room. 

"Why,"  said  Tangen,  "are  you  so  entirely 


6  Life 

out  of  everything  as  not  to  know  of  the  great 
change  of  religion  in  Norway!  The  churches 
are  empty  at  the  great  festivals,  my  friend,  for 
the  gods  of  the  present  day  have  moved  up  to 
the  mountains." 

They  were  to  travel  with  the  general's  eldest 
son  Reidar,  a  man  of  about  thirty,  a  merchant 
and  athlete,  red-haired,  beardless,  and  with 
somewhat  sleepy  eyes.  The  rest  of  the  party 
had  gone  up  the  day  before.  The  thing  now 
was  to  find  places. 

It  was  a  long  train  that  at  last  moved  out 
in  the  grey  morning  light.  Holth  sat  by 
the  window  and  watched  the  last  houses  dis- 
appear, and  brown  fields  and  dripping  trees 
take  their  place.  But  before  long,  patches  of 
snow  began  to  gleam  out  here  and  there,  and 
in  a  trice  they  were  in  the  midst  of  winter.  A 
dusky  red  sun  rose  from  behind  dark  hills  and 
lighted  up  the  windows  in  the  scattered  dwel- 
lings. 

"Well,  old  man!"  said  Tangen,  slapping 
Holth's  knee.  "How  do  you  think  the  com- 
munity will  get  on  without  you?  Don't  you 
think  it'll  be  jolly  to  be  a  bachelor  for  a  week, 


Life  7 

and  breathe  fresh  air  in  the  company  of  girls?" 

Reidar  Bang  looked  satirical.  "You  poor 
married  men!"  he  said.  "You'll  have  an  ac- 
count to  render  when  you  get  home  again!" 

"He's  a  misogynist  and  has  read  too  much 
Schopenhauer,"  said  Tangen  with  a  pitying 
glance  at  Reidar.  "But  just  wait  a  little! 
We  shall  soon  have  him  falling  deeply  in  love." 

Reidar  raised  his  light  eyebrows  and  smiled, 
but  said  nothing.  He  knew  quite  well  how 
busily  people  were  trying  to  get  him  to  marry. 
On  this  occasion  his  sister  Inga  had  invited  a 
friend  of  hers,  and  he  quite  understood  why, 
but  he  did  not  intend  to  touch  her — even  with 
a  pair  of  tongs. 

Pipes  were  lighted  and  the  conversation  grew 
lively,  and  Holth's  spirits  began  to  rise  by  as- 
sociation with  these  merry  souls.  Later  in  the 
morning,  Reidar  proposed  that  they  should 
leave  the  train  at  the  halfway  station,  and  go 
across  the  mountains.  Holth  tnought  it  a  mad 
idea.  "You  must  be  crazy!"  he  said.  "I 
haven't  had  a  pair  of  skis  on  my  feet  within  the 
memory  of  man !"  Tangen  was  charmed,  how- 
ever, and  all  of  a  sudden,  at  a  station,  Reidar 


8  Life 

got  up,  saying,  "Here  we  are !"  seized  his  knap- 
sack, and  hurried  out.  Tangen  followed,  and 
to  his  own  surprise,  Holth  too  found  himself 
standing  on  the  platform  with  a  pair  of  skis 
in  his  hand,  while  the  train  rumbled  on  again. 

"Which  way  do  we  go  now?" 

"Heavenwards,"  said  the  artist,  pointing  to 
the  moor  that  rose  skywards  above  the  wooded 
hills,  covered  with  newly-fallen  snow.  Holth 
sighed  and  followed  the  others,  at  first  with  his 
skis  on  his  shoulder.  It  was  very  still  after 
the  noisy  town,  and  the  air  was  so  fresh  and 
light,  that  he  stopped  involuntarily  to  drink 
it  in. 

The  other  two  seemed  to  have  undergone  a 
transformation.  Holth  spoke  to  them,  but 
they  did  not  answer.  They  hastened  on  with 
uplifted  head  and  quivering  nostrils,  like 
hounds  just  loosed.  Their  bodies  seemed 
greedy  for  the  steep  climb,  and  they  hummed 
to  themselves  with  eagerness  and  delight. 
Holth  did  not  relish  their  company,  and  would 
have  liked  to  turn  back.  People  are  so  dif- 
ferent, he  thought.  Here  were  these  two  fops 
in  elegant  sporting  costume,  and  himself  in  a 


Life  9 

kind  of  mixture.  When  they  stopped  higher 
up  the  hill  to  put  on  their  skis,  he  looked  at 
their  new-fashioned  ^'-fastenings  that  were 
attached  to  the  foot  with  a  single  movement 
of  the  hand;  and  he  himself  had  to  use  cord 
and  string.  No,  he  did  not  shine  in  such  com- 
pany; he  ought  to  have  stayed  at  home! 

"Hurrah!"  shouted  Reidar  out  over  the  val- 
ley that  now  lay  far  below  them.  They  could 
still  hear  the  roar  of  the  disappearing  train  like 
a  far-away  rattling  among  the  mountains. 
"Hurrah!'*  echoed  Tangen,  as  he  raised  him- 
self to  his  full  height  and  swung  his  arms  to 
fill  his  lungs  with  air.  "Now  we're  off!" 

Holth  soon  proved  the  truth  of  this.  As  a 
country  lad  he  had  been  clever  enough  on  skis, 
but  today  he  was  soon  out  of  breath.  The 
other  two  had  nothing  in  their  hands;  but  al- 
though he,  after  the  old-fashioned  manner, 
used  a  long  stick,  he  kept  on  falling,  and  had 
great  difficulty  in  getting  upon  his  feet  again. 
His  boots  became  filled  with  snow,  he  got  the 
points  of  his  skis  in  among  osiers  and  lost  time 
in  getting  free  again;  he  slid  backwards  in  a 
crack  and  then  fell  head  foremost  in  the  snow, 


10  Life 

and  swore  angrily  when  the  others  went  quietly 
on.  "You  might  wait!"  he  cried.  "We  must 
take  breath!"  "We  must  begin  first,"  Tangen 
called  back  over  his  shoulder.  Holth  looked 
after  them  and  his  lips  tightened.  Things  al- 
ways go  right  for  some  people.  Here  was  this 
artist,  who  had  grown  up  in  a  cottage  and  had 
had  no  schooling,  and  he  was  famous.  And 
Reidar,  an  idler  at  school,  but  now  head  of  a 
large  business  which  he  himself  had  made,  in- 
terested in  everything,  from  racing  to  the  latest 
concert.  That  is  how  life  favours  a  few  people. 
But  he  himself — he  was  always  left  behind, 
and  would  soon  be  worn  out  and  old. 
"I  say !  You  might  wait  for  me  1" 
He  toiled  and  perspired,  and  the  pulse  in  his 
neck  hammered  so  hard  against  his  collar  that 
he  had  to  unfasten  the  button.  The  sun  melted 
the  snow  so  that  it  stuck  to  the  skis  and  made 
them  very  heavy.  A  large  bird  flew  up  among 
the  trees  with  a  dash  and  a  shower  of  snow  in 
its  wake;  a  little  farther  on  a  hare  darted  away. 
They  got  higher  and  higher,  zigzagging  up 
the  incline,  stooping  under  boughs  and  being 
lashed  in  the  face  and  half -blinded  by  fir  twigs. 


Life  11 

A  distant  sound  of  church-bells  reached  them 
from  the  valley.  Morning  service  was  over. 
When  Holth  stood  still,  he  saw  on  the  other 
side  of  the  valley,  hill  behind  hill  in  the  blue 
distance,  and  last  of  all  the  white  range  of 
mountains,  in  billows  of  gold  and  blue  beneath 
the  clear  sky. 

They  were  now  above  the  tree-limit,  and  be- 
fore them  rose  the  moor  like  an  enormous  snow- 
drift. The  other  two  put  on  dark  spectacles, 
but  Holth  had  not  been  so  provident,  and  the 
snow  seemed  like  a  white  flame  that  beat  into 
his  eyes.  The  icy  wind  up  here  cut  through 
his  perspiring  body,  and  he  thought  of  in- 
flammation of  the  lungs  and  death.  And  now 
he  felt  a  blister  on  his  heel!  He  might  get 
blood-poisoning!  This  would  indeed  be  an 
Easter! 

At  last  they  sighted  the  cairn,  so  the  worst 
was  over.  But  now  the  very  land  began  to 
play  pranks  with  him.  They  went  on  and 
on,  and  the  confounded  cairn  was  as  far  off 
as  ever.  Here  a  hidden  plain  revealed  itself, 
that  must  first  be  crossed;  and  there  lay  a 
valley  into  which  they  must  descend  and  then 


12  Life 

ascend  the  opposite  side,  and  so  on.  Holth 
gazed  dully  at  the  labouring  back  of  the  ar- 
tist, and  plodded  on  and  on.  He  would  never 
survive  this! 

The  cairn  was  a  little  heap  of  stones  upon 
bare  rock,  and  when  at  last  they  reached  it, 
Holth  threw  himself  down  with  a  groan. 

"Are  you  tired?"  asked  Tangen,  unfasten- 
ing his  skis. 

"Oh  no,  not  in  the  least!"  he  answered 
crossly. 

"Here's  an  orange,"  said  Bang,  taking  some 
out  of  his  knapsack.  They  peeled  and  ate  this 
golden  fruit  that  had  strayed  up  into  the  eter- 
nal snow.  Holth  complained  of  his  sore  heel, 
and  Reidar  said  he  should  put  a  plaster  on  it. 
"Plaster!"  snarled  Holth.  "Won't  you  run 
to  the  chemist's  for  one?"  But  with  the  sleep- 
iest of  expressions  Reidar  began  to  remove 
Holth's  ski  and  boot,  saying:  "Let's  have  a 
look  at  it !"  He  drew  off  the  stocking,  washed 
the  foot  with  snow,  dried  it  with  his  pocket- 
handkerchief,  and  took  out  his  pocket-book. 
"Here's  some  plaster,"  he  said.  "A  sports- 
man carries  everything  with  him."  Tangeri 


Life  13 

offered  vaseline,  and  Holth  was  quite  touched. 
It  was  very  long  since  he  had  had  comrades 
like  this.  If  they  were  indifferent  to  his 
weariness  they  were,  at  any  rate,  careful 
enough  about  his  wound. 

When  he  once  more  stood  up,  his  foot  was 
all  right,  and  as  they  glided  on  in  the  sunshine, 
casting  long  shadows  across  the  dazzling  snow, 
Holth  fancied  he  was  not  quite  so  tired.  A 
sense  of  well-being  pervaded  his  limbs.  Ah, 
he  had  neglected  a  powerful  frame  for  many 
years,  but  now  what  had  happened?  He  held 
up  his  head  and  felt  inclined  to  shout  out  some 
nonsense,  to  make  the  mountains  answer  and 
fling  it  out  to  the  sky.  Troubles  and  reverses 
seemed  to  grow  small.  There  would  be  sure 
to  be  some  way  out  of  them. 

Many  miles  off,  the  white  horizon  rose  and 
fell,  assuming  fantastical  shapes  of  men  and 
animals.  To  the  north  stood  two  old  wives 
with  their  heads  up  in  the  sky,  gossiping  on 
just  the  same  subjects  as  they  had  discussed 
from  time  immemorial.  A  fissure  in  a  moun- 
tain was  a  valley  containing  many  villages; 
and  beyond  were  more  mountains  and  more 


14  Life 

fissures.  It  was  Norway.  Holth  could  have 
described  it  all  in  the  schoolroom,  and  yet  it 
now  seemed  as  if  he  had  never  seen  it  before. 
In  town  the  sky  was  only  a  theory,  but  here 
it  was  an  actual  thing.  It  glowed  in  the  south, 
it  flickered  in  the  west.  The  skis  glided  of 
themselves ;  the  feet  moved,  but  only  to  yield, 
not  to  work.  It  was  like  a  voluptuous  dance 
across  a  floor  bounded  by  infinity  itself,  be- 
neath a  dome  whose  height  none  had  meas- 
ured. The  mind  is  filled  with  rhythm,  and  one 
looks  about  smiling. 

"Oh,  look  there!"  cried  Bang  suddenly,  as 
a  flock  of  white  birds  rose  up  and  flew  quickly 
away  through  the  blue  air.  "Ptarmigan!" 
said  Tangen.  "Mountain  ptarmigan!"  said 
Reidar,  his  sleepy  face  becoming  wide  awake. 
"I  must  see  how  many  there  were."  And  he 
set  off  after  them,  bending  forward  and 
swinging  his  arms,  his  yellow  skis  looking  like 
flames  upon  the  white  snow.  He  went  a£ 
such  a  pace  that  he  had  soon  dwindled  into  a 
speck  far  away. 

"That's  a  fellow  with  lungs  and  muscles!" 


Life  15 

said  Tangen.  "Come  on!  He'll  catch  us 
up." 

"Has  he  really  never  heen  engaged?"  asked 
Holth,  who  now,  being  in  good  spirits,  was 
ready  to  talk  about  women. 

"He  shuns  girls,  my  friend,  because  he  has 
dreamt  that  one  is  going  to  ruin  him.  Would 
you  believe  that  that  iron  frame  is  the  abode 
of  mysticism?  In  May  last  year  he  dreamt 
that  on  the  14th  of  January  this  year  he  was 
to  telegraph  such  and  such  a  message  to  his 
agent  in  Odessa,  about  a  large  grain  specula- 
tion, and  he  did  it  and  made  thousands  over 
it.  He  is  a  fatalist  and  muses  upon  death, 
and  at  the  same  time  plays  tennis  and  ruins 
his  rivals  in  business.  Oh,  he'll  get  on!" 

"There  he  is  again!"  And  the  black  speck 
grew  rapidly  out  of  the  snowy  sheet,  then 
he  shouted,  and  a  moment  later  dashed  up  to 
them.  "There  were  at  least  fifty,"  he  said, 
wiping  the  perspiration  from  his  face. 

"And  all  that  exertion  only  to  find  out 
that!"  thought  Holth. 

The  plateau  now  began  to  slope  down  to  the 
next  valley,  and  the  pace  became  quicker. 


16  Life 

Tangen  went  as  if  on  skates,  and  Reidar  in 
frolicsome  bounds  from  sheer  exuberance  of 
spirits.  Holth  had  to  lean  on  his  stick,  ex- 
pecting every  minute  that  he  would  fall.  The 
wind  whistled  past  his  ears  and  cuf  through 
him;  his  eyes  watered  and  the  snow  seemed 
like  a  fabric  running  up  to  and  past  him. 
Soon  a  dark  line  was  visible  below.  It  was 
the  tree-limit  once  more.  In  a  little  while  they 
had  glided  down  on  to  a  frozen  lake,  and  sud- 
denly heard  a  shout. 

"They've  come  to  meet  us,"  said  Reidar; 
and  soon  after  they  saw  on  the  farther  shore 
two  sH-ers,  a  man  and  a  woman.  Before 
them  lay  the  white,  undisturbed  surface  of 
the  lake,  which  now,  from  both  sides,  became 
scored  with  long  ski-tracks.  In  the  advancing 
couple  Reidar  recognised  his  youngest  sister 
Inga,  and  Tangen  his  brother  Henrik.  "The 
rogue  knows  jolly  well  what  he's  about,"  he 
said. 

The  last  time  Tangen  had  seen  the  young 
girl,  she  was  in  ball-dress,  and  now  she  wore 
a  short  frieze  dress,  with  embroidered  belt 
and  a  red  woollen  cap  upon  her  dark  hair. 


Life  17 

On  her  feet  she  wore  great  thick  boots,  out  of 
the  tops  of  which  stuck  goat's-hair  socks.  And 
yet  she  glided  towards  them  as  easily  and 
freely  as  if  she  had  neved  moved  upon  any- 
thing but  skis. 

"You've  frightened  us  nearly  out  of  our 
lives,"  she  said,  a  little  breathlessly,  as  she 
pushed  back  a  wave  of  dark  hair  from  her 
rosy  face.  "The  boy  came  home  from  the 
station  with  an  empty  sleigh  and  not  so  much 
as  a  telegram  even."  And  she  smiled,  disclos- 
ing gleaming  white  teeth. 

"It  looks  as  if  you  two  had  guessed  which 
way  we  should  come,  however,"  said  Reidar, 
chucking  her  under  the  chin.  "Or  had  you 
and  Henrik  thought  of  running  away?" 

Inga  gave  her  companion  a  sidelong  glance, 
and  the  young  man  pulled  his  fair  moustache 
and  laughed. 

Soon  the  whole  party  were  on  their  way 
to  the  wood,  where  there  was  more  shelter 
than  on  the  plateau. 

"I  say,  old  man,"  said  Tangen  to  his 
brother,  "who  gave  you  leave  to  go  about 
alone  with  Froken  Bang?" 


18  Life 

They  smiled  at  one  another,  these  two 
brothers,  whose  mother  had  been  a  servant- 
maid.  They  had  been  brought  up  separately, 
at  the  expense  of  the  parish;  but  when  Hen- 
rik  was  only  just  past  the  confirmation-age, 
the  elder  brother  had  established  a  position 
for  himself,  and  was  able  to  help  the  younger. 
The  young  architect  had  recently  returned 
from  a  residence  of  some  years  in  Paris,  full 
of  plans  for  creating  something  new  at  home. 

The  incline  now  became  steep.  Reidar  drew 
his  cap  down  over  his  ears  and  disappeared  in 
a  cloud  of  snow  brushed  from  branches  and 
bushes  as  he  sped  past.  Inga  followed  him 
with  her  hands  in  her  pockets.  At  one  mo- 
ment it  looked  as  if  a  branch  would  cut  her  in 
two,  but  she  stooped  in  time;  at  another  as  if 
she  would  fall  over  a  tree-stump,  but  she 
turned  aside  and  disappeared,  her  hands  in 
her  pockets  all  the  time.  Holth  came  last, 
and  for  him  the  descent  was  dangerous  and 
full  of  knocks  and  falls,  cuts  and  scratches. 
When  at  last  he  reached  the  general's  place, 
with  its  little  red  houses  on  the  hill,  his  ears 
were  full  of  snow,  and  his  face  burning  after 


Life  19 

his  numerous  falls.  In  the  yard  there  was 
a  little  forest  of  skis  stuck  into  the  snow;  and 
the  white-haired  wife  of  the  general  was 
standing  on  a  balcony,  waving  her  hand  to 
the  newcomers. 

"We  must  have  a  bucketful  of  cold  water 
thrown  over  us  to  prevent  our  catching  cold," 
said  Reidar,  leading  Holth  into  a  little  bath- 
house. It  was  no  use  making  objections.  He 
had  to  undress;  but  he  nearly  fainted  with 
the  shock  of  the  cold  water.  After  a  good 
rub  down,  however,  and  a  change  of  clothes 
from  his  knapsack,  he  followed  the  others 
through  the  snow  over  to  the  main  building, 
with  a  sense  of  well-being  that  made  him  feel 
many  years  younger. 


II 


IF  any  one  had  asked  General  Bang 
whether  he  was  a  happy  man,  he  would  have 
answered  with  a  careless  wave  of.  the  hand. 
Happiness  or  unhappiness — as  if  he  had  time 
to  ponder  over  such  things!  When  inspect- 
ing, he  used  to  come  down  like  a  whirlwind, 
and  fill  the  drill-ground  with  a  mixture  of 
fear,  bustle  and  festive  pleasure.  Then  sud- 
denly one  day  he  reached  the  age-limit,  to  his 
intense  bewilderment.  What!  Was  he,  who 
still  had  so  much  to  do — was  he  old?  Had  it 
come  to  an  end  ?  There  was  scarcely  one  silver 
thread  in  his  dark  beard,  and  his  thick-set 
frame  was  as  elastic  as  ever.  Was  he  nearly 
seventy — he? 

It  was  hard  to  go  about  with  nothing  to 
do  when  his  friends  set  off  for  the  drill- 
ground,  and  the  atmosphere  of  his  pretty 
house  in  Drammens  Road  was  oppressive  as 
he  wandered  restlessly  from  room  to  room. 

It  had  formerly  been  a  recreation  for  him 

20 


Life  21 

to  play  the  violin,  but  now  it  only  reminded 
him  of  idleness.  It  was  better  when  the  shoot- 
ing began,  and  before  it  came  lo  an  end  he 
was  fortunate  enough  to  have  found  mistakes 
in  the  province  maps  which,  of  course,  must 
be  corrected,  even  if  he  had  to  do  it  himself. 
Or  he  discovered  regions  in  which  a  sana- 
torium should  be  built ;  or  he  went  into  sseters 
and  found  things  that;  might  be  improved  if 
only  people  had  their  eyes  open.  He  wan- 
dered in  forest  and  mountain,  always  restless, 
as  if  he  were  afraid  of  something  unpleasant 
happening  to  him;  indeed,  he  became  so  busy 
again  in  one  good  cause  or  another,  that  he 
once  more  found  it  a  rest  to  play  the  violin. 
He  old! 

But  when,  in  his  wanderings,  he  sat  with 
his  chin  resting  upon  Els  stick,  looking  out 
over  forest  and  moor,  memories  of  the  past 
came  back  to  him.  How  many  of  his  friends 
were  dead !  Ah  yes,  but  some  were  still  living. 
And  then  there  were  the  women.  Well,  who 
is  there  thai;  can  say  he  has  never  been  to 
blame?  There  was  that  time  with  Captain 
Riis.  They  were  rivals  in  the  military  acad- 


22  Life 

emy,  and  there  Riis  was  the  fortunate  one. 
Later  they  were  captains  on  the  same  drill- 
ground,  and  were  rivals  there  too;  but  when 
Bang,  as  major,  galloped  along  the  line,  Riis 
was  passed  over  and  left  behind.  One  fine  day 
Bang  galloped  along  the  same  line  as  general, 
while  Riis  still  stood,  a  grey-haired  captain, 
who  had  to  lower  his  sword  to  salute  his  su- 
perior officer.  There  are  ups  and  downs. 
And  it  was  summer,  with  light  nights,  and 
Riis,  who  had  married  late  in  life,  was  visited 
in  camp  by  his  pretty  young  wife.  .  .  .  But 
there,  he  must  be  going  on  if  he  is  to  get  home 
in  time  for  supper. 

Years  had  passed,  and  the  previous  winter 
Inga  came  home  and  spoke  about  a  friend  of 
hers  in  the  gymnastic  class,  Astrid  Riis.  Oh 
yes,  she  was  the  daughter  of  a  retired  captain. 
Inga  obtained  leave  to  invite  her  to  the  Eas^ 
;ter  outing,  but  when  the  general  saw  the 
young  girl  enter  the  railway-carriage,  he 
started  in  astonishment.  That  fresh  face  un- 
der the  golden  hair!  Why,  it  was  Fru  Riis 
herself!  "Is  it  really  fifteen  years  since  your 
mother  died,  Froken  Riis?  Indeed!" 


Life  23 

It  was  only  a  little  episode,  that  time  long 
ago,  and  since  then  he  had  been  busy  about 
so  many  things,  but  that  night  he  had  strange 
dreams.  The  next  morning,  even  before  he 
had  quite  finished  dressing,  Inga  came  into 
his  room  and  said:  "Is  it  true  that  you're 
going  to  call  on  Astrid's  father  when  you 
go  back  to  town?"  "Why,  yes!  He's  an 
old  comrade  of  mine."  "But  you  mustn't, 
father!"  "Eh,  what!  Mustn't  I?"  Inga 
looked  guilty.  "No,"  she  said,  "because — be- 
cause Astrid  didn't  dare  tell  him  that — that 
it  was  to  us  she  was  coming."  The  general 
stood  open-mouthed.  "Father,  what  was 
there  between  Captain  Riis  and  you?" 

"Doesn't  her  father  know  where  she ?" 

"No;  but  as  she  keeps  house  for  him  and 
works  besides,  half  the  day,  in  an  office,  don't 
you  think  she  deserves  a  little  holiday?" 
"Jesuit!"  said  the  general,  shaking  his  head. 
"Besides,  he's  quite  certain  never  to  hear  of  it, 
because  he  never  sees  anybody."  "Doesn't 
he?"  said  the  general,  turning  to  the  window. 
"Does  he  never  see  anybody?" 

General  Bang  was  always  busy  up  in  the 


24  Life 

mountains  too.  He  would  himself  sweep 
paths  in  the  snow  to  all  the  little  outhouses; 
he  would  bring  in  the  firewood  with  his  own 
hands ;  he  had  his  favorite  view  from  one  par- 
ticular window  to  which  he  had  continually  to 
go;  there  were  visitors  and  he  had  much  to 
see  to.  But  today,  through  it  all  ran  the 
thought:  "So,  Captain  Riis,  you've  shut 
yourself  up,  have  you,  and  people  are  deceiv- 
ing you  now  too!" 

The  new  guests  arrived,  and  the  fire  in  the 
high-raftered  room  shone  upon  a  noisy  assem- 
bly. There  were  the  children  of  the  house,  the 
sons-in-law,  and  some  friends.  There  was  the 
eldest  son,  a  forest-inspector,  a  perfect  giant, 
with  brown  beard  and  kind  eyes.  There  was 
Hjort,  a  business  manager,  and  his  pretty 
young  wife,  with  whom  Tangen  was  already 
carrying  on  a  low-toned  conversation;  and  the 
general  was  walking  about  the  room  with  a 
daughter  on  each  arm,  one  dark,  Fru  Ramm, 
the  other  fair,  Fru  Heiberg.  In  front  of  the 
fire  sat  the  youngest  son,  Harald,  an  engineer, 
and  when  in  town  a  dandy,  but  here  collarless 
and  wearing  patched  trousers  and  a  coarse 


Life  25 

woollen  jersey,  and  thankful  that  he  was  a 
sportsman.  He  admired  his  brother  Reidar 
for  his  triumphs  in  sport  and  good  strokes 
of  business;  and  he  dreamed  of  beating  him 
in  both  lines. 

"Confounded  humbug  the  whole  of  it!" 
came  from  the  open  door,  as  the  two  sons-in- 
law  made  their  appearance — the  young  beard- 
less Captain  Ramm,  and  Dr.  Heiberg,  a 
plump  man  with  gold-rimmed  eyeglasses. 

"Most  of  it's  humbug,"  said  the  captain,  as 
he  shut  the  door.  "I'm  certain  that  next  year 
the  Storthing " 

"For  goodness'  sake,  don't  let  us  have  any 
Storthing  talk  up  here,  where  we  meant  to 
breathe  pure  air!" 

The  walls  of  the  great  room  were  adorned 
with  elks'  heads,  hunting  implements,  and 
hangings  woven  by  the  daughters  of  the 
house;  and  the  chairs  hollowed  out  of  trunks 
of  trees  were  so  big  that  one  could  almost 
have  lain  down  in  them. 

"But  we  ought  really  to  have  dinner  now," 
said  the  active  little  hostess.  "You  who've 
come  over  the  mountains  must  be  fearfully 


26  Life 

hungry!"  Her  small  face  was  rosy  under  her 
white  hair,  and  her  whole  person  spotlessly 
clean,  and  her  brown  eyes  twinkled  roguishly. 
"Oh,  by  the  by,  Holth,  you  haven't  told  me 
anything  about  your  wife  and  children  yet," 
she  went  on,  taking  Holth's  hand  in  both  hers 
and  drawing  him  aside. 

Just  then  the  door  opened,  and  a  bent, 
white-haired  old  lady  entered  with  a  stick  in 
her  hand.  Cries  of  "Grandmother!  Grand- 
mother!" greeted  her  on  all  sides.  It  was 
difficult  to  believe  that  Fru  Bang,  who  had 
long  been  a  grandmother  herself,  had  brought 
her  mother  with  her  up  into  the  mountains. 
The  old  lady's  name  was  Fru  Kindt,  and  she 
used  to  say  jokingly  that  she  did  not  remem- 
ber whether  she  was  eighty  or  ninety. 

"Ah,  there's  the  bad  man  who  never  comes 
to  see  us  now,"  she  said,  making  her  way 
towards  Holth. 

When  at  last  dinner  was  ready,  they  had  to 
go  out  to  another  little  building  that  stood  by 
itself  up  among  the  trees.  The  path  up  to  it 
through  the  snow  had  become  so  soft  in  the 
sun  that  they  sank  ankle-deep  in  it.  This 


Life  27 

caused  some  fun.  Some  of  them  found  in 
the  kitchen  big  straw  slippers  which  they  put 
on;  the  tall  forester  trusted  to  his  own  legs 
and  took  his  wife  upon  his  back;  and  the 
general  and  Reidar  carried  the  old  lady  in  a 
dandy-chair,  although  she  screamed  like  a 
young  girl.  Tangen  was  most  unlucky,  for 
as  he  lifted  Fru  Hiorth  in  one  arm  and  set 
off,  he  tripped  and  fell  headlong,  so  that  the 
lady  was  flung  far  off  into  the  snow,  and  be- 
fore he  could  come  to  her  assistance,  another 
rescue-party  had  been  sent  out  to  bring  her 
ashore.  Laughing  and  shouting  they  came 
into  the  little  raftered  room,  where  they  were 
met  by  the  warmth  from  another  fire  and  the 
smell  from  steaming  saucepans. 

It  seemed  to  Holth  that  no  food  had  ever 
tasted  so  good  as  this — with  a  truly  primeval 
appetite  after  his  exertions  on  the  mountains 
and  the  cold  shower,  and  with  the  sunlight 
falling  across  the  floor.  And  tomorrow  too 
he  would  be  free !  The  hot  meat  was  pleasant 
to  his  palate;  there  was  no  wine,  but  he  held 
up  his  glass  of  clear,  bright  water,  and  let 
it  sparkle  in  the  sun. 


28  Life 

The  conversation  became  general,  as  at  a 
festive  dinner,  faces  were  merry  and  flushed 
with  the  cold,  lips  smiled  and  eyes  sparkled. 

Holth  was  placed  beside  the  old  lady,  who 
now  turned  to  him  to  say:  "You  can't  think 
how  different  young  people  are  now  from 
what  they  were  in  my  time/' 

"I  can  quite  believe  it,"  he  replied. 

"No  longer  ago  than  when  the  general  was 
a  young  lieutenant  and  was  courting  my 
daughter,  he  would  come  with  some  fellow- 
officers  and  serenade  her;  while  now — now 
they  invite  one  another  to  tennis  and  ski-ex- 
cursions."  And  the  old  lady  closed  her  eyes, 
as  if  to  recall  memories  of  bygone  days. 

Suddenly  Dr.  Heiberg  held  up  a  piece  of 
stuff  in  one  hand,  and  every  one  looked  at  it. 
"I  found  this  in  the  wood,"  he  said,  stroking 
his  beard.  "Some  ski-ex  must  have  torn  his 
trousers  upon  a  branch  in  passing;  but  I  won- 
der whether  it  was  a  man." 

The  ladies  cried  out  in  chorus,  and  Fru 
Ramm  leaned  across  the  table  and  snatched 
the  piece  of  stuff  from  him.  "Oh,  was  it 
yours,  Anna?"  he  said,  going  on  with  his  din- 


Life  29 

ner.  "Be  quiet!"  she  cried,  blushing  and  look- 
ing across  at  Tangen.  "Your  wife  ought  to 
look  after  your  manners  a  little,  for  you're 
getting  worse  and  worse." 

"Do  you  think  I  don't  try?"  said  her  fair 
sister,  who  sat  near  her.  "But  he  can  wait 
now  until  we've  finished  dinner." 

The  great,  steaming  dishes  of  meat  were 
rapidly  emptied.  Inga  often  rose  from  the 
table  to  help  with  the  waiting,  and  it  was 
easy  to  see  from  her  important  air  that  she 
was  the  youngest  daughter  of  the  house. 
Very  soon  Astrid  Riis  was  allowed  to  help 
her,  and  the  two  young  girls  became  quite 
maternal  in  their  care,  as  they  passed  back- 
wards and  forwards  across  the  broad  stream 
of  sunshine  on  the  floor,  Inga  dark  and  slen- 
der, Astrid  with  her  golden  hair  shining  in 
the  sun,  and  both  with  the  free,  easy  carriage 
that  gymnastics  and  dancing  give. 

The  general  followed  Astrid's  movements 
with  little  side-glances.  "How  can  you  have 
managed  to  keep  your  father  in  ignorance  as 
to  where  you  are?"  he  thought.  How  like 
her  mother  she  was! 


30  Life 

For  the  young  girl  too,  to  be  a  guest — here 
— was  like  a  strange  dream.  She  had  always 
heard  from  her  father  that  the  general  was  a 
monster  of  iniquity,  and  she  had  come  here 
with  Inga  out  of  a  rash  desire  to  venture 
close  up  to  him.  And  there  he  sat,  smiling 
and  looking  kind  and  nice,  and  she  was  wait- 
ing on  him.  How  strange!  If  her  father 
were  to  know!  But  there  was  something  so 
foolhardy  about  it,  too,  that  a  thrill  ran  down 
her  spine,  and  she  bent  her  head  to  hide  the 
smile  that  came  to  her  lips. 

The  hum  of  conversation  continued  until 
nil  turned  their  attention  to  Tangen,  who 
was  saying  that  culture  had  its  origin  in  beau- 
tiful women. 

"When  I  stand  and  look  down  upon  Rome 
or  Paris,"  he  said,  "I  think  of  all  the  women 
who  must  have  shed  tears  in  order  that 
all  those  beautiful  buildings,  gardens,  parks, 
monuments  and  fountains  could  be  pro- 
duced." 

"Tears?"  questioned  several  voices. 

"A  beautiful  woman  has  no  soul  until  her 


Life  31 

heart  is  broken,  so  of  course  she  cannot  in- 
spire when  she  smiles." 

"Just  listen  to  him!" 

"Then  it's  one  of  the  aims  of  culture  to 
break  women's  hearts,"  said  the  general,  smil- 
ing. 

Tangen  was  seated  beside  Fru  Hiorth,  and 
the  pleasure  of  it  made  him  almost  arrogant. 
It  is  true  he  loved  his  wife,  and  at  parting 
had  sworn  that  he  would  think  of  her  all  the 
time;  but  it  was  not  easy  to  be  he.  He^had 
had  no  opportunity  of  being  young  until 
lately,  and  now  he  had  so  much  appetite  saved 
up.  Then  he  met  one  woman  who  made  him 
feel  like  a  youth  of  twenty,  and  then  he 
met  another  who  surpassed  all  others.  There 
was  so  much  that  was  beautiful  in  the 
world,  and  at  the  present  moment  it  was  Fru 
Hiorth  and  no  other. 

She  was  the  daughter  of  a  priest,  and  was 
only  two  or  three  and  twenty.  Her  oval  face, 
framed  by  waving  brown  hair,  had  acquired 
an  olive  tinge  up  here;  and  her  dark,  arched 
eyebrows,  her  teeth,  her  lips,  the  whole  fresh, 


34  Life 

"I  was  ejected,  ladies  and  gentlemen,  be- 
cause I  said  I  would  make  a  slave  of  my 
wife."  And  in  his  cap  and  apron  he  went 
on  down  to  the  other  house,  followed  by  peals 
of  laughter. 

The  sun  was  just  sinking  behind  the  daz- 
zingly  white  ridge  in  the  west,  and  great  red 
clouds  glowed  like  flames  over  half  the  sky. 
What  the  sun  had  melted  earlier  was  now 
frozen  again,  and  the  hill  to  the  north  of  the 
houses  was  soon  alive  with  dark  figures,  swing- 
ing arms,  and  sfcz'-points  shooting  incessantly 
past  one  another.  The  snow  sighed  beneath 
the  big  forester,  who  drew  his  wife  by  the 
hand.  Hiorth  kept  fast  hold  of  his  too,  think- 
ing, as  he  glanced  at  Tangen,  that  it  was  best 
to  make  sure  of  what  one  had.  They  all  gath- 
ered upon  the  hill,  and  looked  down  into  the 
blue  shadows  of  the  valley.  The  pace  would 
be  pretty  fast,  and  for  a  moment  no  one-, 
seemed  to  be  inclined  to  be  the  first  to  try  it. 

Inga  and  Astrid  had  finished  washing-up, 
and  now  came  up  too  on  their  skis. 

"Do  you  dare?"  said  Henrik,  raising  his 
hand  to  Inga. 


Life  35 

"Catch  me  if  you  can!"  she  answered  with 
a  little  grimace,  and  dashed  off.  For  a  mo- 
ment there  was  the  swish  of  a  single  pair  of 
skis,  and  then  the  young  man  darted  after  her, 
but  outside  her  tracks,  so  as  not  to  run  into 
her  if  she  fell.  What  a  pace  they  went  at! 
The  air  was  like  ice  against  face  and  chest. 
He  saw  her  a  dark  figure  that  kept  sinking 
before  him.  She  had  her  hands  in  her  jacket- 
pockets  even  now,  as  she  came  upon  a  drift 
and  was  carried  up  into  the  air,  bending  to 
take  the  descent,  on  again  with  hair  loosened 
and  flying  in  the  wind  like  a  kite.  Now  she 
shot  up  and  over  the  road  and  he  after,  though 
he  all  but  fell.  She,  in  front,  broke  into  a 
laugh  and  bending  to  the  right,  swung  round 
with  a  swish  up  the  hill  again  to  stop  herself. 
Then  she  took  her  hands  out  of  her  pockets 
and  looked  round.  He  dashed  up  beside  her 
out  of  breath  with  the  race  and  the  excite- 
ment of  it,  and  caught  hold  of  her  hand,  cry- 
ing: "You  said  I  was  to  catch  you." 

"Yes,  but  see  if  you  can  keep  me!"  And 
she  was  off  again  up  the  hill. 


34  Life 

"I  was  ejected,  ladies  and  gentlemen,  be- 
cause I  said  I  would  make  a  slave  of  my 
wife."  And  in  his  cap  and  apron  he  went 
on  down  to  the  other  house,  followed  by  peals 
of  laughter. 

The  sun  was  just  sinking  behind  the  daz- 
zingly  white  ridge  in  the  west,  and  great  red 
clouds  glowed  like  flames  over  half  the  sky. 
What  the  sun  had  melted  earlier  was  now 
frozen  again,  and  the  hill  to  the  north  of  the 
houses  was  soon  alive  with  dark  figures,  swing- 
ing arms,  and  sjfo'-points  shooting  incessantly 
past  one  another.  The  snow  sighed  beneath 
the  big  forester,  who  drew  his  wife  by  the 
hand.  Hiorth  kept  fast  hold  of  his  too,  think- 
ing, as  he  glanced  at  Tangen,  that  it  was  best 
to  make  sure  of  what  one  had.  They  all  gath- 
ered upon  the  hill,  and  looked  down  into  the 
blue  shadows  of  the  valley.  The  pace  would 
be  pretty  fast,  and  for  a  moment  no  one 
seemed  to  be  inclined  to  be  the  first  to  try  it. 

Inga  and  Astrid  had  finished  washing-up, 
and  now  came  up  too  on  their  skis. 

"Do  you  dare?"  said  Henrik,  raising  his 
hand  to  Inga. 


Life  35 

"Catch  me  if  you  can!"  she  answered  with 
a  little  grimace,  and  dashed  off.  For  a  mo- 
ment there  was  the  swish  of  a  single  pair  of 
skis,  and  then  the  young  man  darted  after  her, 
but  outside  her  tracks,  so  as  not  to  run  into 
her  if  she  fell.  What  a  pace  they  went  at! 
The  air  was  like  ice  against  face  and  chest. 
He  saw  her  a  dark  figure  that  kept  sinking 
before  him.  She  had  her  hands  in  her  jacket- 
pockets  even  now,  as  she  came  upon  a  drift 
and  was  carried  up  into  the  air,  bending  to 
take  the  descent,  on  again  with  hair  loosened 
and  flying  in  the  wind  like  a  kite.  Now  she 
shot  up  and  over  the  road  and  he  after,  though 
he  all  but  fell.  She,  in  front,  broke  into  a 
laugh  and  bending  to  the  right,  swung  round 
with  a  swish  up  the  hill  again  to  stop  herself. 
Then  she  took  her  hands  out  of  her  pockets 
and  looked  round.  He  dashed  up  beside  her 
out  of  breath  with  the  race  and  the  excite- 
ment of  it,  and  caught  hold  of  her  hand,  cry- 
ing: "You  said  I  was  to  catch  you." 

"Yes,  but  see  if  you  can  keep  me!"  And 
she  was  off  again  up  the  hill. 


36  Life 

"I  was  so  afraid  you'd  fall,"  he  said,  trying 
to  keep  up  with  her. 

"Oh,  rubbish!  It  was  yourself  you  were 
afraid  for." 

"Oh,  I  say!" 

"I'm  certain  that  if  I  broke  my  neck,  you'd 
be  off  at  once  to  the  next  girl." 

"What?"  At  this  he  really  had  to  come  up 
with  her. 

"Look!  Is  that  Orion?"  she  said,  pointing 
with  her  gloved  hand;  but  no  sooner  had  he 
turned  to  look  at  the  yellow  constellation  than 
she  suddenly  disappeared,  leaving  him  stand- 
ing moodily  where  she  left  him. 

Hiorth  had  after  all  let  go  of  his  wife,  and 
Tangen,  as  he  glided  past  her,  seized  her 
hand  and  drew  her  with  him  until  they  had 
gone  too  far  to  turn. 

"Oh,  don't!    I  shall  fall!"  she  cried. 

"All  the  better!"  he  answered  quickly.  "I 
know  nothing  so  delightful  as  to  fall  with  a 
beautiful  woman!"  And  they  dashed  on. 

"You  mustn't  let  go  of  me,  Tangen!" 

"Not  even  in  death!" 

The  wind  carried  away  his  cap.     At  the 


Life  37 

dizzy  pace  at  which  they  moved,  they  might 
very  possibly  fall  with  their  heads  against  a 
disguised  rock,  or  break  their  limbs,  and  they 
kept  a  convulsive  hold  of  one  another's  hands, 
as  if  to  face  a  common  fate;  but  she  felt  that 
he  stood  firmly  on  his  feet,  and  it  gave  her  a 
sense  of  security ;  she  trusted  herself  to  him  in 
a  voluptuous  terror  of  what  the  next  moment 
might  bring.  They  came  upon  a  drift,  and 
together  leaped  into  the  air,  then  on  again 
like  two  flashes  of  lightning.  Suddenly  he 
shot  up  over  a  mound  of  snow  that  she  es- 
caped; he  felt  a  jerk  to  his  hand  and  lost  his 
balance,  and  the  next  moment  there  arose 
clouds  of  snow  in  which  two  figures  and  two 
pairs  of  skis  were  being  whirled  along. 

When  at  last  they  came  to  a  standstill,  they 
lay  motionless  for  a  few  moments  to  collect 
their  scattered  senses.  Even  when  they  had 
risen  to  their  feet  again,  they  stood  gazing  at 
one  another  for  an  instant,  as  if  in  wonder  at 
being  there  together.  Finally,  they  discov- 
ered that  neither  their  skis  nor  their  limbs 
were  broken,  so  there  was  no  reason  to  do 
anything  but  laugh  as,  still  half  dazed,  they 


38  Life 

helped  one  another  to  get  the  snow  out  of 
collars  and  ears.  In  the  fall  her  elbow  had 
struck  his  face,  and  as  his  nose  now  began  to 
bleed,  she  seized  a  handful  of  snow  and 
pressed  it  to  his  forehead. 

"Oh,  dear,  was  it  my  fault?" 

"Yes,  you've  shed  my  blood,  so  beware — I 
may  require  something  of  you  in  return." 

"Blood?" 

"No,"  he  said;  "something  else.  But  not1 
now." 

Here  Hiorth  came  flying  up  to  them  with 
an  angry  look  on  his  face.  "Herr  Tangen!" 
he  cried,  leaning  heavily  on  his  staff  as  a 
brake.  "Herr  Tangen,  what  is  the  meaning 
of  this?  I  must  say "  But  the  next  mo- 
ment he  fell  head  foremost  over  a  ridge  of 
drifted  snow,  and  disappeared  in  smoke  and 
vapour. 

"What  were  you  about  to  say?"  asked  Tan- 
gen, when  the  other  had  risen  and  was  able 
Jo  breathe  again.  "I  thought  you  wanted  to 
say  something." 

"Go  to  the  devil!"  cried  Hiorth,  still  spit- 
ting snow  out  of  his  mouth. 


Life  39 

''Oh,  very  well,  then  we'll  go,"  said  Tangen, 
taking  the  girl's  hand.  She  looked  for  a  mo- 
ment at  her  husband.  "You  didn't  hurt 
yourself,  did  you,  Hans?"  "No,  indeed!"  he 
answered,  taking  the  snow  out  of  his  hair. 
In  his  own  opinion  his  life  had  been  in  danger 
when  he  fell,  and  for  the  moment  that  over- 
shadowed everything  else.  The  girl  went  up 
with  Tangen;  the  men  slept  in  a  room  by 
themselves,  so  her  husband  would  not  get 
properly  hold  of  her  until  Easter  was  over. 

Captain  Ramm  wanted  to  take  his  wife 
with  him  down  the  hill,  but  she  shook  her 
head  and  kept  her  eyes  upon  the  two  who 
had  just  fallen  together.  "No,  I  tell  you!" 
she  said.  "I  ought  never  to  put  on  skis  again. 
I'm  too  old."  And  her  breast  seemed  to  heave 
with  some  secret  sorrow. 

"Old!  What  nonsense!  But  do  you  see, 
Anna,  most  of  these  ski-ers  have  been  my 
pupils  in  gymnastics.  Do  you  see  how  well 
they  do  it?" 

She  was  not  listening  to  him,  and  now,  as 
Tangen  and  Fru  Hiorth  drew  near,  she  sud- 
denly started  down  the  hill  alone. 


40  Life 

Reidar  and  young  Harald  were  busy  piling 
up  snow  for  a  leap.  Harald  was  a  little  en- 
vious of  his  elder  brother,  who  had  scored 
so  many  successes  in  sport.  But  whit  a  lit- 
tle! 

"It's  about  high  enough  now,"  said  Reidar, 
standing  up  beside  the  great  mound  of  snow. 
It  was  about  his  own  height.  "Well,  we 
aren't  exactly  children,  are  we?"  said  his 
brother,  quickly  tossing  up  a  few  more  shovel- 
fuls. 

"Why,  that  jump  will  be  almost  like  the 
Holmenkol  one,"  said  Astrid  Riis,  as  she 
glided  past. 

Reidar  raised  his  cap  and  bowed  stiffly. 
"Yes,  Froken  Riis;  and  who  would  have  ex- 
pected it — of  us?" 

She  pushed  on  with  head  bent  and  lips 
compressed.  Arrogant  creature!  He'd  bet- 
ter take  care! 

"Come  here  and  look!"  was  the  cry.  "Rei- 
dar's  going  to  take  the  leap!" 

As  Reidar  quietly  zigzagged  up  towards 
the  wood  to  get  a  run,  a  grey-haired  ski-er 


Life  41 

came  towards  him  with  his  cap  in  his  hand  and 
holding  out  a  telegram. 

"Are  you  Herr  Reidar  Bang?" 

Reidar  took  the  telegram  and  read :  "Your 
mill  destroyed  last  night  by  fire,  with  grain, 
flour  and  machinery.  What  is  to  be  done?" 
Reidar  looked  thoughtful  for  a  moment. 
-Well,  the  mill  was,  of  course,  insured,  but 
the  year's  production  and  profits  were  lost, 
and  this  amounted  to  several  thousand  krones. 
The  next  moment  he  wrote,  with  his  most 
sleepy  expression,  an  answer  on  the  back  of 
the  same  form,  and  giving  the  messenger  five 
krones,  told  him  to  go  into  the  kitchen  and  get 
a  cup  of  coffee,  and  then  hurry  off  and  de- 
spatch the  telegram.  He  then  went  quietly 
on  up  the  hill  to  take  the  jump.  "What  was 
that?"  cried  his  brother  after  him.  "Nothing," 
he  answered,  and  soon  disappeared.  Befdre 
long  a  shout  was  heard:  "Here  he  comes!" 
Harald  was  standing  beside  the  mound  to 
show  whereabouts  it  was.  The  next  moment 
a  dark  figure  shot  out  from  among  the  trees, 
bending  his  knees  a  little  as  he  approached 
the  mound,  like  a  spring  gathering  force,  then 


42  Life 

flew  past  Harald  and  up  into  the  air.  A 
strip  of  red  sky  and  blue  mountain  was  vis- 
ible below  his  skis,,  as  he  sailed  up  there  in  the 
twilight  with  arms  outstretched  like  the  wings 
of  a  bird.  It  looked  as  if  the  attraction  of 
gravitation  was  suspended,  and  the  man  be- 
longed to  the  air.  He  began  to  sink,  but 
the  hillside  beneath  him  sank  also,  and  when 
he  finally  came  to  the  ground,  he  still  dashed 
on  in  a  cloud  of  snow. 

Harald  was  already  up  in  the  wood  to  do 
what  his  brother  had  done,  and  when  he  flew 
out  from  the  mound  and  hovered  in  the  air 
with  outstretched  arms,  he  proudly  cried 
"Hurrah!"  Even  when  he  descended  and  con- 
tinued his  course  in  a  cloud  of  snow,  in  danger 
of  falling  every  moment,  he  cheered  again. 
Now  they  could  see! 

A  little  later,  as  the  two  brothers  passed 
Astrid  Riis,  she  exclaimed  enthusiastically: 
"How  splendidly  you  took  the  jump,  Herr 
Harald!  I've  never  seen  any  one  do  it  with 
such  ease!" 

"And  what  about  my  brother?"  asked  the 
young  man,  with  sparkling  eyes. 


Life  43 

"Ah,  yes,"  she  said  demurely,  "he  did  try 
it,  too,  didn't  he?"  Raidar  stared  vacantly  at 
the  spiteful  girl,  but  as  he  glided  on  he  could 
not  help  laughing.  Her  simple  attempt  to 
tease  him  was  quite  touching. 

A  round  moon  had  risen  over  the  hills  in 
the  east — not  the  cold  metallic  disc  of  winter, 
but  the  dazzling  silver  lamp  of  April.  The 
hillside  was  soon  alive  with  a  noisy  crowd, 
flying  down  with  merry  cries,  standing  or  fall- 
ing, struggling  up  again  and  flying  on  cov- 
ered with  snow,  returning  with  shouts  and 
laughter,  each  breath  sent  out  like  a  little 
white  cloud  in  the  cold  air,  and  faces  ruddy 
with,  warmth. 

Holth  was  in  a  strange  mood  as  he  stood  at 
the  top  of  the  hill  looking  on.  He  had  not 
the  courage  to  go  down,  and  he  felt  he  was 
old  and  not  wanted.  When  had  he  been  so 
young?  Not  when  he  was  twenty,  for  then  he 
had  had  to  toil  for  his  daily  bread  by  day 
and  study  by  night.  Then  he  must  have  been 
young  afterwards,  when  he  swore  to  some 
items  on  an  elections  programme,  and  cried 
"Hurrah!"  for  the  right  councillor?  Or 


44  Life 

I 
later?     Marriage — a   heavy   family   load   to 

drag — where  was  his  youth? 

"Why  are  you  standing  here  alone?"  said 
Astrid  Riis,  as  she  came  up  to  him,  a  little 
out  of  breath  with  the  hill. 

"Don't  trouble  about  me,  Froken  Riis. 
You  look  much  nicer  when  you  fly  along 
alone." 

"Come  down  with  me!" 

;  Astrid,  like  the  others  in  her  class,  had 
been  an  enthusiastic  admirer  of  Holth  in  his 
art-history  lessons,  and  now  it  was  most  in- 
teresting to  be  able  to  help  him  to  ski.  "That's 
capital!"  she  cried,  as  they  set  off  obliquely 
down  the  hill,  so  as  to  reduce  the  pace.  "Yes, 
when  you've  youth  with  you!"  he  answered, 
more  than  a  little  anxious. 

On  the  way  back  he  took  her  hand,  which 
was  warm  although  she  had  taken  off  her 
woollen  glove.  She  let  him  keep  it  as  they 
went  on,  and  for  a  moment  he  felt  almost 
giddy  and  confused  with  a  new,  unknown 
happiness.  But  suddenly  he  seemed  to  see 
a  worn  woman  and  children  of  various  ages 
at  home,  a  gloomy  flat,  debt,  a  hopeless  fu- 


Life  45 

i 

ture;  and  involuntarily  he  dropped  the  girl's 

hand,  and  went  on  with  bent  head, 

Henrik  Tangen  was  struggling  up  alone, 
rubbing  his  forehead  with  snow.  There  was  a 
little  girl  he  had  his  eye  upon;  but  he  might 
just  as  well  try  to  catch  a  fish  with  his  hands. 
She  was  here,  there,  and  everywhere.  She 
flew  off  hand  in  hand  with  the  doctor,  with  her 
sister,  or  with  one  of  her  brothers;  and  when 
he  approached  her,  she  was  off  again  asking 
some  one  else  to  go  with  her.  "I  ought  not 
to  have  come  here,"  he  thought.  "I  shall 
never  be  happy  again."  And  he  turned  and 
looked  gravely  at  the  moon. 

His  brother  had  another  little  run  with 
Fru  Hiorth,  and  when  they  were  alone  for  a 
moment  at  the  edge  of  the  wood,  he  stopped 
and  looked  into  her  face. 

"Forgive  me  for  being  quite  drunk  this 
evening.  Is  it  you,  or  the  moon,  or  the  coun- 
try, or  only  that  I'm  alive,  that  makes  me 
lose  command  over  myself?  Do  you  know 
what  happiness  is?  I  know  too  what  adver- 
sity is;  but  this  evening — this  evening J> 


46  Life 

And  he  suddenly  threw  himself  back  into  the 
snow  and  lay  there  with  outstretched  arms. 

"No,  stand  still  like  that,  so  that  I  can  see 
your  head  arched  over  by  the  sky.  Some  day 
we  shall  die,  and  then  others  will  play  some 
evening  as  we  are  doing.  But  we  are  still 
alive,  and  we  are  still  young. 

And  I  call  Thee  to  witness,  Eternal  God, 
That  the  life  that  Thou  gav'st  me  is  lovely." 

"Hush,  Tangen!"  said  the  girl,  looking 
about  her.  "Get  up!  Some  one  might  see 
us!" 

"No,  I  mean  to  kiss  you.  Don't  be  afraid 
— only  your  shoe,  only  the  edge  of  your 
dress."  And  before  she  could  prevent  him, 
he  had  taken  hold  of  her  foot,  and  kissed 
the  thick  boot,  kissed  the  icy  hem  of  her  skirt, 
trembling  with  pleasure  as  though  it  had  been 
her  face. 

"No,  no,  Tangen!  Let  me  go!  Let  me  go, 
do  you  hear?"  And  she  tore  herself  away 
and  went  on,  but  slowly,  and  soon  stood  still 
and  waited  for  him. 

A  gong  was  heard,  calling  to  supper. 


Life  47 

Henrik  Tangen  had  at  last  got  hold  of 
Inga,  and  the  two  came  up  to  the  house  after 
the  others  had  gone  in.  All  the  way  up  he 
had  talked  enthusiastically  about  his  ideas  for 
new  buildings  here  at  home,  but  she  listened 
to  him  with  an  ironic  smile.  He  must  not 
become  too  vain.  Up  at  the  house  he  knelt 
down  in  the  snow  and  unfastened  her  ski- 
straps,  and  as  she  felt  with  a  slight  tremor  his 
fingers  about  her  feet,  she  gazed  full  at  the 
moon  with  shining  eyes.  With  his  bare  hand 
he  carefully  brushed  the  snow  from  her  shoes 
and  stockings.  "Thank  you,"  she  said. 
"There,  that'll  do!  That'll  do,  I  say!" 

The  party  at  the  supper-table  was  a  noisy 
one,  and  faces  and  hands  glowed  with  the 
cold  and  the  heat;  but  the  whole  outing  was 
only  an  incitement  to  further  exercise. 


Ill 


LIFE  on  the  mountains  brings  people  into 
a  state  of  innocence,  and  they  become  children 
again.  In  a  dance  no  woman  sits  out  be- 
cause she  is  plain,  no  man  excuses  himself 
with  inability  to  dance,  no  one  makes  spiteful 
remarks  in  corners  about  others'  dresses,  for 
no  one  "dresses,"  and  all  are  alike. 

The  walls  in  the  large  hall  were  so  dark 
that  neither  the  fire  nor  the  lamps  hanging 
from  the  roof  could  make  it  very  light,  and 
the  couples  whirled  about  in  a  ruddy  half- 
light.  There  was  a  noise  of  sturdy  feet,  for 
the  dancing  shoes  were  leather  boots  with 
inch-thick  soles.  The  room  grew  warm,  and 
the  men  discarded  their  coats  and  danced  on 
in  their  shirt-sleeves;  they  were  on  the  moun- 
tains. The  general  had  been  forbidden  to 
.dance,  but  how  could  he  remember  a  little 
heart-trouble  at  such  a  time  I  Never  mind; 
we  all  have  to  die. 

During  a  pause  he  went  up  to  Holth,  who 

48 


Life  49 

stood  wiping  his  forehead  after  his  exertions. 

"Well,  monsieur!"  he  said,  slapping  him 
upon  the  shoulder.  "What  do  you  like 
best  at  the  present  moment — dancing  or  so- 
cialism?" 

"I  dance  so  badly,  general.  It  must  be  the 
fault  of  socialism." 

"Then  you  can  revenge  yourself  upon  all 
your  'isms  and  learn  a  proper  waltz." 

"It's  too  late  now." 

"Nonsense!  Why,  I,  a  man  of  seventy, 
went  to  a  new  dancing  class  last  year  to  learn 
the  Merry  Widow  waltz,  and  it's  made  me 
younger  by  twenty  years.  No,  a  composer 
who  flings  out  upon  the  world  a  melody  so  be- 
witching that  even  the  blind  and  the  lame 
must  get  up  and  waltz,  he  does  far  more  good 
to  mankind  than  either  kings  or  trade  unions^ 
What  do  you  say?  Write  a  treatise  on  that, 
young  man!" 

"Young,  yes — young!"  said  Holth  with  a 
melancholy  smile. 

"Well,  is  it  impossible  for  you  to  be  more 
than  twenty  in  the  presence  of  such  girls?" 
The  general  stroked  his  handsome  beard,  and 


50  Life 

looked  at  the  dancers  with  warmth  in  his  gaze. 
"In  olden  days  a  young  girl  had  to  sit  stoop- 
ing over  embroidery,  but  look  there.  Those 
girls  aren't  crooked  and  thin  and  ready  to 
faint  with  a  little  movement,  are  they?  When 
•the  next  generation  comes,  born  of  such  moth- 
ers, we  shall  become  a  nation  to  conquer  the 
world.  But  listen!  That's  a  new  one !"  And 
the  old  beau  was  off  in  search  of  a  partner. 

"You're  not  dancing.  May  I  have  the  hon- 
our?" said  Astrid  Riis  to  Holth;  and  he  swung 
off  with  her  to  the  softly  swaying  music,  a 
little  uncertain  in  his  time,  but  aided  by  her 
once  more.  Her  waist  was  so  firm  to  his  arm, 
and  her  movements  so  sure;  he  felt  the  light 
touch  of  her  hair  against  his  face,  and  her 
breath  upon  his  neck.  Oh,  how  good  it  could 
sometimes  be  to  be  alive! 

Paul  Tangen,  the  artist,  was  never  more  at 
his  ease  than  when  dancing  with  a  young 
woman.  His  supple  body  seemed  to  turn  to 
music,  and  his  face,  with  the  brown  beard 
and  thick  fair  hair,  seemed  to  be  dreaming 
with  closed  eyes.  And  yet  there  was  some- 
thing tragic  about  those  features,  which  could 


Life  51 

not  conceal  their  forty  years,  with  marks  of 
toil  and  trouble,  but  with  the  blind  joy  of  a 
youth. 

He  was  now  dancing  with  Fru  Ramm,  and 
said  softly  into  her  ear:  "You  wouldn't  go 
with  me  on  ski." 

A  shadow  crossed  her  face,  which  was  half 
turned  up  towards  him,  and  her  mouth  hard- 
ened a  little. 

"No,"  she  said,  gathering  up  her  dress.  "It 
was  my  fault  perhaps." 

In  a  little  while  he  whispered:  "Two  years 
ago — up  here — do  you  remember?" 

She  closed  her  eyes,  and  after  a  few  rhyth- 
mical movements,  the  answer  came  under  her 
breath:  "No,  I  remember  nothing." 

A  few  minutes  later,  when  she  saw  him 
dancing  with  Fru  Hiorth — in  the  same  man- 
ner— she  rose,  said  good-night,  and  went  to 
bed. 

Then  the  door  opened,  and  the  oldest  mem- 
ber of  the  family  appeared,  smiling,  with  her 
stick  in  her  hand.  She  was  greeted  with  cries 
of  "Grandmother,  grandmother!  We  thought 
you  were  asleep.'* 


52  Life 

"Oh,  indeed!  Do  you  think  any  one  can 
sleep  in  a  house  like  this?  Bui  I  should 
rather  like  a  dance  myself." 

The  applause  was  great ;  but  when  the  gen- 
eral came  up  and  bowed  to  her,  she  refused. 
"It  would  have  to  be  Reidar,  if  I  do,"  she 
said,  "for  he  knows  how."  Reidar,  however, 
had  to  put  on  his  jacket  before  he  was  allowed 
to  present  himself,  for  she  was  not  accus- 
tomed, she  said,  to  dance  with  gentlemen 
in  undress. 

They  danced,  of  course,  only  a  few  turns, 
and  then  the  old  lady  had  to  be  assisted  to  a 
seat,  whereupon  she  declared  her  intention  of 
remaining  where  she  was  and  looking  on  until 
it  was  all  over. 

The  best  part  was  still  to  come,  when  the 
young  people  of  the  house  began  to  dance, 
folk-dances.  Harald  Bang  climbed  up  with 
a  concertina  on  to  a  ladder  that  leant  against; 
$he  wall,  and  Reidar  led  Inga  out  into  the 
middle  of  the  great  floor,  while  all  the  others 
sat  round  the  walls  to  look  on.  A  new  cul- 
ture was  played  into  their  minds;  the  lan- 
guishing waltz  tones  gave  place  to  concertina 


Life  58 

airs  reminiscent  of  quiet  valleys  and  far-off 
times. 

Reidar,  strong  and  supple,  was  in  a  mo- 
ment transformed  from  a  gentleman  to  a  peas- 
ant, and  with  raising  of  shoulders  and  arms, 
and  flinging  of  legs,  he  led  his  sister  by  the 
hand,  in  little  jumps,  round  the  floor.  His 
mill  was  burnt  down,  he  had  suffered  great 
loss,  but  no  one  knew  it;  in  short,  he  was  go- 
ing to  dance  a  "springdans."  He  flung  the 
young  girl's  hand  over  his  head  and  then 
again  and  again  over  hers,  he  crouched,  he 
stamped  on  the  floor  and  cried:  "Hey!" 
Then  there  was  a  kind  of  private  business  be- 
tween them,  as  they  stamped  round  with 
short  steps,  side  by  side  and  hand  in  hand*, 
but  at  last  it  became  too  much  for  him,  and 
he  seized  her  round  the  waist  with  both  hands 
and  whirled  her  off,  their  bodies  alternately 
rising  and  falling.  Her  hair  became  unfas- 
tened and  flew  out  behind  in  a  plait;  and  her 
skirts  filled  the  floor  with  wind.  Hey!  The 
peasant  lad  released  the  girl,  spat  on  his 
hands,  stamped  on  the  floor  and  would  not 
hear  of  any  interference.  Hey!  Now  he 


54  Life 

seized  her  again,  whirling  along,  lifted  her 
from  the  floor  in  a  high  arch  again  and  again, 
released  her,  clapped  his  hands — hey! — and 
whirled  her  off  once  more. 

"That'll  do,  that'll  do!"  cried  their  mother. 
"Inga  will  be  quite  out  of  breath.  No  more 
nowl" 

"Come  and  take  the  concertina,  Reidar," 
said  Harald  from  the  ladder,  "and  then  we  can 
have  a  'hailing.' '  For  he,  too,  was  desirous 
of  showing  himself  off  upon  the  floor. 

The  general  considered,  however,  that  a 
"hailing"  upon  a  concertina  was  nothing 
short  of  desecration,  so  he  fetched  his  violin 
and  mounted  the  ladder  himself.  Harald 
threw  off  his  jersey,  stepped  out  into  the 
middle  of  the  floor,  and  was  a  peasant  lad 
from  top  to  toe.  He  swung  his  arms  and  spat 
on  his  hands,  crying:  "Does  any  one  dare?'* 

Reidar  said  he  had  danced  so  much  he  was 
going  to  have  a  pipe. 

"You  must  be  quite  tired  out,"  said  Astrid 
Riis  quietly.  Reidar  glanced  carelessly  at 
her  and  calmly  took  out  his  pipe.  How  that 
girl  kept  on  at  him  with  her  little  sarcastic 


Life  55 

remarks.  She  was  by  no  means  the  languish- 
ing girl  that  he  had  thought  her,  with  matri- 
mony for  her  one  aim.  He  really  felt  thai; 
he  would  like  to  dance  with  her  now. 

"Where  is  my  wife?"  said  Hiorth,  going 
round  and  peering  with  shortsighted  eyes  into 
all  the  corners.  But  she  was  not  in  the 
room,  nor  was  Paul  Tangen  either. 

"Well,  if  no  one  dares,  that  alters  the  case," 
said  Harald,  spitting  scornfully  far  over  the 
floor.  What  a  country  lad  that  Carl  Johan 
Street  dandy  had  become.  "Will  nobody 
venture?" 

At  this,  Henrik  Tangen  quietly  divested 
himself  of  his  coat  and  stepped  out.  He  was 
slim  and  elastic,  but  now  tried  to  make 
himself  clumsy  and  broad. 

The  violin  began  a  frolicsome,  defiant  "hall- 
ing,"  and  an  involuntary  tremor  passed 
through  the  assembled  party,  Even  in  these 
town-dwellers,  the  rousing  sounds  of  the  fid- 
dle conjured  up  thoughts  of  strong  men,  of 
drinking,  stabbing  and  blood. 

The  two  in  the  middle  of  the  floor  stood  for 
a  moment  smiling  at  one  another,  but  the 


56  Life 

music  soon  transformed  their  faces,  which 
darkened  with  excitement.  Their  shoulders 
and  feet  began  to  move,  they  advanced  with 
clenched  fists,  they  retreated  as  if  to  gather 
strength,  but  their  eyes  darted  lightning,  and 
their  mouths  grew  hard.  The  fiddle  excited 
and  egged  them  on.  Hey !  They  I  ^ked 
askance  at  one  another,  but  for  a  moment 
their  bodies  expressed  indifference.  Pooh! 
What  was  there  to  mind !  The  fiddle  laughed 
and  jeered,  and  their  feet  moved  more  rap- 
idly and  their  elbows  shook  at  their  sides. 
Harald  spat  upon  the  floor  and  said  any  one 
who  liked  could  take  it  up,  and  his  rival 
came  up  to  ask  what  he  meant  by  that. 
Only  that  any  one  might  come  on;  he  was  a 
full-grown  man!  Their  legs  danced  until 
there  was  hardly  room  on  the  floor,  and  their 
faces  stood  at  storm.  The  spectators  sat  and 
laughed,  for  Henrik  Tangen  was  so  entirely 
the  old-time  peasant  that  he  felt  for  his  sheath- 
knife  at  his  back,  and  turned  the  quid  in  his 
mouth.  Their  movements  became  wilder  and 
wilder,  and  the  fiddle  filled  the  room  with 
rage.  Suddenly  Harald  sprang  up  on  to  a 


Life  57 

bench  and  danced  on  there,  and  every  one 
fled  before  him.  One  almost  expected  in  a 
moment  to  see  the  gleam  of  a  knife.  Henrik 
sprang  up  and  almost  kicked  the  roof,  fell 
back  and  lay  outstretched  for  a  moment,  but 
sprang  up  again  like  a  spring,  and  danced  sit- 
ting upon  his  haunches.  Then  he  swung 
across  the  floor  again,  and  Harald  sprang 
down  from  his  bench  and  advanced  towards 
him  as  if  he  meant  to  clear  the  room. 

"That'll  do!  That'll  do!"  cried  Fru  Bang. 
"Harald!  Do  you  hear!  Leave  off!" 

The  fiddle  ceased,  and  the  two  young  men 
soon  came  to  themselves,  and  in  the  middle 
of  the  floor  stood  two  men-about-town,  smil- 
ing and  bowing  to  one  another. 

"Where  is  my  wife?"  asked  Hiorth  again; 
and  at  the  moment  it  sounded  so  comical  that 
there  was  a  shout  of  laughter. 

"I  think  she's  gone  up  to  bed,"  said  Fru 
Bang  reassuringly. 

When  the  music  of  the  last  waltz  sounded 
through  the  room,  Reidar  went  up  to  Astrid 
Riis  and  asked  her  for  the  dance.  It  was  the 
first  time  he  had  shown  her  a  little  attention; 


58  Life 

but  she  declined,  saying  she  was  tired  and 
that  besides  she  did  not  dance  the  same  kind 
of  waltz  as  he  did. 

It  Reidar  reddened  and  turned  to  his  sister-in- 
law,  who  was  sitting  beside  Astrid,  saying:  "I 
beg  your  pardon.  I  made  a  mistake.  It  was 
you,  Ragna,  I  meant." 

When  he  brought  his  sister-in-law  back  to 
her  place,  he  heard  Astrid  say  clearly  and 
distinctly  to  Inga:  "Oh,  dear  no!  I  could 
never  fall  in  love  with  a  sportsman,  for  people 
like  that  have  much  more  muscle  than  brains." 

Reidar  pretended  not  to  have  heard,  but 
he  had  to  wipe  his  forehead. 

Paul  Tangen  was  standing  outside  the 
house,  gazing  at  a  solitary  light  far  away  on 
the  mountain.  That  must  be  a  house,  too, 
where  they  were  dancing.  Suddenly  silence 
fell  upon  the  room  he  had  left;  the  piano  was 
moved  and  Fru  Hiorth's  clear  voice  was  heard 
singing.  She  sang  a  Fruhlingslied  by  Schu- 
mann, and  her  voice  sounded  warm  and  tri- 
umphant. 

At  about  midnight  the  gong  sounded  once 
more,  as  a  signal  for  retiring  to  rest. 


Life  59 

As  soon  as  Reidar  thought  every  one  would 
be  asleep,  he  got  up  and  dressed  quietly.  He 
meant  to  go  across  the  moor  tonight,  and  down 
to  the  station  to  send  another  telegram. 

At  last  everything  was  quiet  in  the  little 
houses,  and  the  moon  was  alone  out  there, 
shining  upon  the  blue-white  snow  and  the  dark 
woods.  The  people  inside  slept  the  deep, 
pleasant  sleep  that  one  sleeps  when  the  limbs 
are  full  of  warm  blood  and  respiration  is  quiet 
and  easy.  Astrid  Riis,  however,  was  awake. 
Her  evening  prayer  had  gradually  become  a 
;talk  with  her  dead  mother,  and  now  she  asked 
her  advice  about  Reidar. 

His  first  glance  had  been  stony.  "What 
shall  I  do  with  him?  What  would  you  have 
done?"  the  young  girl  almost  whispered,  as  she 
lay  with  her  hands  behind  her  head,  looking 
towards  the  window. 

Late  that  night  a  solitary  ski-er  glided 
across  the  moonlit  moor.  The  wind  was  icy 
to  his  face,  and  his  shadow  sped  along  by  his 
side.  While  he  was  dancing  the  "springdans" 
he  had  hit  upon  an  idea  for  a  grain  transac- 
tion that  should  make  good  his  loss  by  the 


60  Life 

burning  of  his  mill,  if  only  the  telegram  to 
Chicago  was  in  time. 

In  the  morning,  his  limbs  had  hungered  for 
movement;  now  they  had  acquired  the  well- 
controlled  strength  that  could  stand  yet  an- 
other spell  of  exertion.  And  then  there  was 
that  conceited  girl,  who  had  treated  him  to 
nothing  but  sarcasm.  Well,  wait  a  little! 

He  lighted  his  pipe  and  quickened  his  pace, 
so  that  a  trail  of  sparks  followed  him.  Across 
the  desolate  waste  came  the  mournful  sighing 
of  the  wind. 

There  was  great  wonderment  the  next  morn- 
ing when  Reidar  was  not  to  be  found;  but  as 
his  dog  was  also  gone,  the  general  thought 
he  must  have  got  up  early  to  see  whether  there 
were  many  hares  in  the  neighbourhood.  It 
would  be  like  him,  and  in  the  meantime  they 
must  be  satisfied  with  that  and  wait. 

An  expedition  was  made  to  the  nearest 
cairn,  and  in  the  bright  sunshine,  the  scattered 
company  toiled  up  through  wood  and  over 
hill.  Holth  was  among  the  last,  and  when  at 
length  he  reached  the  top,  breathless  and 
warm,  the  others  had  already  lighted  a  fire 


Life  61 

and  spread  fL  -branches  over  the  snow  to  sit 
upon.  Skis  were  taken  off,  and  as  the  fir- 
covered  space  was  limited,  they  had  to  sit  close 
together.  As  every  one  wanted  to  have  the 
sun  in  his  or  her  face,  it  was  a  matter  of  course 
that  each  leaned  back  against  his  or  her  neigh- 
bour; so  it  became  a  group  in  which  every  lap 
pillowed  a  head,  while  faces  shone  red  against 
the  snow,  and  eyes  half  closed  beneath  the 
warm  rays  of  the  sun. 

Paul  Tangen  talked  about  starting  a  fund 
for  the  extermination  of  engineers.  "They 
disfigure  everything  they  touch,"  he  said. 
"Some  day  the  whole  of  Norway  will  be  noth- 
ing but  iron  pipes  and  the  smell  of  petrol. 
Soon,  too,  we  shall  have  floating  hotels  in  the 
air,  which  will  empty  their  dust  buckets  upon 
our  heads  when  we  believe  we  are  surrounded 
by  nature.  That's  what's  called  progress. 
No,  a  price  should  be  put  upon  the  heads  of 
engineers." 

They  laughed  and  stretched  out  their  feet. 
The  fire  was  nice  and  warm,  and  shone  yellow 
against  the  white  snow.  One  or  two  of  the 
ladies  seemed  to  be  dozing. 


62  Life 

Harald  Bang  was  standing  leaning  against 
a  tree-trunk,  smiling  at  the  sun  and  rubbing 
his  face  with  a  handful  of  snow.  He  would 
not  trouble  to  answer  the  artist,  being  fully 
occupied  in  becoming  as  sunburnt  as  possible 
before  once  more  appearing  in  Carl  Johan 
Street. 

"Every  one  has  his  mission,"  said  Captain 
Ramm,  as  he  lighted  his  pipe. 

"Well,  there's  some  sense  in  your  calling," 
said  Paul  Tangen.  He  was  lying  with  his 
head  on  Fru  Ramm's  lap. 

"And  what  is  it?"  asked  several  voices. 

"Beautiful  bodies,"  answered  the  artist. 
"Every  autumn  he  receives  a  batch  of  deform- 
ities, and  in  the  following  spring  delivers  them 
up  as  Greek  statues.  That's  an  education 
with  some  sense  in  it." 

Holth  had  laid  his  head  against  Astrid  Riis' 
knee,  and  he  could  feel  a  little  pulse  beating 
under  the  back  of  his  neck.  He  looked  out 
over  the  immeasurable  landscape  spread  out 
under  the  sunny  blue  vault  of  heaven,  and  lay 
breathing  with  such  ease.  But  when  this  was 
over?  A  desire  came  over  him  to  stretch  out 


Life  63 

his  hands  and  pray  that  these  moments  might 
last  and  never  come  to  an  end. 

A  shout  was  heard  a  little  way  off,  and  a 
ski-eT  came  in  sight.  It  was  Reidar,  moving 
as  though  a  little  tired.  There  was  a  general 
rising,  and  inquiries,  and  he  acknowledged 
that  they  were  right  in  supposing  that  he  had 
been  looking  for  hares.  Skis  were  put  on 
again  amid  laughter  and  jest,  and  one  after 
another  the  members  of  the  party  set  off 
through  wood  and  down  hill,  while  on  the 
mountain-top  lay  the  last  remains  of  the  fire, 
fir  boughs  and  yellow  orange-peel  in  the  white 
snow,  as  the  voices  died  away  among  the  hills. 


IT  was  late  in  May,  and  Astrid  Riis  sat  over 
her  books  at  the  tradesmen's  in  Stor  Street 
where  her  mornings  were  spent.  It  must  be 
nearly  half  past  one,  the  sun  was  shining  out- 
side, and  while  she  tried  to  add  up  a  long  col- 
umn of  figures,  her  thoughts  were  occupied 
with  the  question  of  where  she  was  to  get  cheap 
fish  for  dinner. 

At  last  the  time  came  when  she  could  shut 
up  the  greasy  books,  put  on  her  hat  and  hurry' 
away. 

A  few  minutes  lafer  she  had  two  small  cod 
wrapped  in  paper,  and  as  that  was  not  the 
thing  to  show  one's  self  in  Carl  Johan  Street 
with,  she  hastened  up  through  the  town  by 
back  streets.  The  dinner  had  to  be  on  the 
table  by  three  punctually,  so  she  had  not  a 
minute  to  lose.  She  thought  how  nice  her 
friends  would  be  looking  in  their  spring  cos- 
tumes under  the  green  trees.  She  herself  had 
to  go  on  wearing  her  blue  serge  winter  dress, 

64 


Life  65 

and  when  the  weather  grew  warmer  she  would 
have  to  wash  her  last  year's  light  cotton  frock 
and  iron  it  nicely.  Today  she  had  put  on  a 
straw  sailor  hat,  so  as  not  to  look  too  wintry. 

She  turned  from  a  side  street  up  by  the 
palace,  whence  came  the  sounds  of  a  military 
band,  and  she  stopped  for  a  glimpse  of  the 
crowd  that  covered  the  hill.  The  sun  shone 
upon  the  instruments  and  uniforms,  and  here 
and  there  a  spring  costume  stood  out  boldly 
against  the  dark  background.  Her  friends, 
male  and  female,  would  be  promenading  there, 
she  supposed.  No  matter,  she  must  hasten  on. 

Though  only  twenty,  this  young  girl  had 
much  resting  upon  her  shoulders.  Before 
leaving  for  her  office,  where  she  was  due  at 
eight  in  the  morning,  she  had  to  make  break- 
fast for  her  father,  put  three  rooms  in  order, 
and  make  purchases  on  the  market.  As  she 
now  hurried  homewards,  she  was  considering 
whether  she  could  afford  to  have  a  few  oranges 
for  a  second  course  at  dinner  today,  and  at  last 
she  decided  to  commit  this  extravagance. 
After  going  into  a  shop,  and  receiving  three 
of  the  yellow  fruit  in  a  bag,  she  almost  ran  on, 


66  Life 

for  her  father  was  not  to  be  trifled  with  if  the 
meals  came  to  table  a  minute  after  time. 

As  she  stood  in  her  cooking-apron  and 
rolled-up  sleeves  beside  the  kitchen  fire,  there 
was  a  ring  at  the  front  door,  and  when  she 
opened  it  the  postman  put  a  couple  of  letters 
into  her  hand.  She  listened  anxiously  at  the 
sitting-room  door,  but  her  father  must  be  in 
his  room  and  had  heard  nothing.  The  letters 
were  to  him,  and  she  saw  that  they  were  those 
everlasting  bills  of  which  her  brother  was  the 
cause;  and  she  hastily  crumpled  them  up  and 
threw  them  into  the  fire. 

Captain  Riis's  fate  was  like  that  of  so  many 
Norwegian  officers.  They  begin  their  career 
full  of  energy  and  dreams  of  getting  on,  but 
perhaps  they  have  no  private  means,  and  little 
by  little  have  to  let  some  of  the  officer  go,  and 
take  up  some  civil  employment  as  well.  As 
years  go  on  they  must  find  still  more  extra 
employment,  for  there  is  a  family  to  maintain ; 
and  they  knock  at  doors  and  bow  and  humble 
themselves,  for  it  is  all  only  temporary;  they 
think  they  will  be  promoted  some  day.  A 
captain  reaches  the  age  of  forty  and  begins  to 


Life  67 

reckon  up  when  his  turn  will  come;  and  each 
year  the  anxiety  increases.  He  will  soon  be 
forty-five,  and  it  must  happen  now.  He  pulls 
himself  together  on  the  drill-ground,  and 
trembles  before  those  who  have  his  fate  in  their 
hand.  Soon  he  is  nearly  fifty,  but  there  is 
still  hope.  Captain  Riis  was  living  in  a  West 
Country  town  when,  in  the  midst  of  his  anx- 
iety, he  received  a  telegram  from  the  general 
in  command  to  say  that  he  had  that  day  been 
made  lieutenant-colonel.  He  had  enemies, 
and  his  wife  had  been  a  sorrow  to  him,  but  now, 
in  all  haste,  he  gathered  his  friends  together 
to  make  merry  at  his  house.  While  speeches 
were  being  made  and  healths  drunk,  another 
telegram  came  to  say  that  it  was  a  mistake 
about  the  promotion.  The  old  officer  nearly 
had  a  stroke.  An  enemy  must  have  been  af 
work  between  the  two  telegrams,  and  he  soon 
came  to  the  conclusion  that  it  must  have  been 
General  Bang.  During  the  years  that  fol- 
lowed, while  he  lived  in  expectation  of  redress, 
he  slept  like  a  man  in  a  fever.  But  he  waited 
in  vain.  One  day  he  was  forced  to  confess  to 
himself  that  he  could  never  obtain  redress ;  and 


68  Life 

from  that  time  he  had  a  difficulty  in  holding 
himself  as  erect  as  before. 

He  pulled  himself  together  once  more,  how- 
ever. He  had  a  son  and  a  daughter,  and 
when  he  reached  the  age-limit,  he  moved,  on 
their  account,  into  the  capital.  His  son  was  to 
be  his  redress.  But  his  son  led  a  dissolute  life, 
was  expelled  from  the  military  academy,  and 
was  also  dismissed  from  a  bank  in  which  he 
had  afterwards  obtained  employment;  and 
now  he  had  sunk  lower,  and  his  father  refused 
to  see  him  again.  It  was  hard,  but  the  old 
officer  still  tried  to  hold  himself  erect.  He 
still  had  his  daughter,  and  it  was  a  point  of 
honour  with  him  to  pay  his  son's  debts.  He 
could  scarcely  live  upon  his  pension,  but  his 
daughter  must  help;  he  sold  whatever  could 
be  spared,  and  took  a  flat  in  a  house  in  a  back 
yard;  he  limited  himself  to  one  pipe  a  day, 
and  tried  to  patch  his  own  shoes.  Only  when 
it  grew  dark  did  he  take  his  long  walks,  with 
his  worn  silk  hat  carefully  brushed  and  his 
old  frock-coat  buttoned  up  tightly;  but  his 
glance  had  become  so  strangely  glassy,  and  he 


Life  69 

bowed  to  no  one,  and  would  not  see  if  any  one 
bowed  to  him. 

Today,  too,  Astrid  was  fortunate  enough 
to  have  the  dinner  on  the  table  as  the  clock 
struck  three,  and  at  the  same  moment  the 
sound  of  her  father  clearing  his  throat  came 
from  the  next  room,  the  door  opened  and  he 
appeared,  still  broad-shouldered  and  erect. 
His  red,  beardless  face  had  a  hard  expression, 
his  grey  hair  was  brushed  forward  in  curls, 
his  faded  uniform  was  unbuttoned,  and  his 
trousers  looked  as  if  they  had  gone  with  a 
frock-coat  once  upon  a  time. 

"Pf-f !"  he  said,  putting  his  finger  down  his 
collar. 

"Is  it  your  asthma  again,  father?" 

Without  answering  he  seated  himself  on  the 
creaky  sofa,  and  unfolded  his  napkin.  There 
was  an  ominous  pause. 

"Have  you  read  it?"  he  asked  at  length. 

"Read  what?" 

"The  paper,  of  course.  He's  become  a  mem- 
ber of  a  royal  commission  now  again.  He! 
Ha,  ha!" 

She  understood  now.    Every  time  he  heard 


70  Life 

anything  about  General  Bang,  it  seemed  as  if 
all  his  old  wounds  were  opened  afresh,  and  his 
breathing  became  difficult  that  day. 

In  a  little  while  he  said:  "I  thought  I  heard 
the  bell  ring.  Was  it  bills  again?" 

"No,"  she  said,  bending  over  her  plate.  "It 
was  for  me." 

He  was  satisfied,  and  went  on  with  his  fish 
for  a  short  time,  but  then  he  raised  his  red  eyes 
to  her  once  more.  "And  who  do  you  get  let- 
ters from?"  he  said.  "Is  it  the  farmer-princess 
you  stayed  with  at  Easter?" 

The  young  girl  laughed  a  merry  laugh.  Oh, 
she  had  gradually  become  so  accustomed  to 
dissimulate.  "Do  you  suppose  it's  only  girls 
who  write  to  me?"  she  said. 

The  little  room  served  as  both  dining  and 
drawing-room,  and  the  grey  light  that  fell 
from  the  back-yard  on  to  the  few  remnants  of 
furniture  in  it  would  have  been  melancholy, 
had  it  not  been  for  two  or  three  geraniums  in 
flower,  standing  in  the  window. 

The  old  man  suddenly  laid  down  his  knife 
and  fork,  and  leaning  back  in  his  seat,  looked 
at  her  hard. 


Life  71 

"What's  the  matter,  father?"  He  so  often 
looked  at  her  like  that.  Did  he  suspect  any- 
thing? 

"I  was  thinking  in  the  night  how  fate  can 
be  inherited.  Even  one's  grandchildren  will 
look  strangely  at  a  grandfather  who  never 
came  to  anything.  The  next  generation  ac- 
cepts the  facts,  and  asks  no  questions  as  to 
the  means  by  which  it  rose."  And  he  bent  his 
head  as  if  to  look  into  his  thought. 

"You  ought  to  go  for  a  walk,  father,  now, 
in  the  middle  of  the  day.  There's  never  so 
much  as  a  sunbeam  gets  in  to  you  here." 

"And  who  do  you  suppose  has  shut  the  sun 
out  from  me?" 

"Oh,  it's  no  good  always  brooding  over  that, 
father." 

He  laughed  scornfully.  "No,  no,  no!  You 
brood  over  more  important  things,  don't  you  ?" 

She  turned  her  head  towards  the  window, 
as  if  seeking  for  something  brighter  to  talk 
about,  but  the  old  man  went  on.  "However, 
I've  decided  that  the  bomb  shall  now  explode." 

"The  bomb?" 

"Yes.    As  long  as  he  was  on  the  army  lislE, 


72  Life 

I  was  stupid  enough  to  spare  him;  but  now — • 
now  I  can  bear  it  no  longer." 

She  felt  a  shiver  run  down  her  back.  Here, 
with  her  father,  it  seemed  to  her  that  it  would 
be  a  great  day  when  at  last  he  had  his  revenge ; 
and  yet — her  best  friend  was  Inga  Bang,  and 
they  had  been  exceedingly  kind  to  her  at  the 
general's  when  she  was  their  guest,  and  be- 
sides— no,  that  was  all. 

"What  will  you  do?" 

"Time  will  soon  show."  And  he  returned 
once  more  to  his  dinner. 

"Father,"  she  said  suddenly,  trying  to 
brighten  things  up  a  little.  "We're  going  to 
be  extravagant  today.  Can  you  guess  ?"  And 
she  went  into  the  kitchen  for  two  oranges. 
The  third  must  be  kept  for  her  brother,  in 
case  he  should  steal  in  to  get  something  to  eat. 

The  surprise  did  really  make  the  old  man's 
face  brighter,  and  he  peeled  the  yellow  fruit 
with  great  care.  "Well,  we  must  be  content, 
child,  as  long  as  we  can  have  a  second  course 
once  a  week." 

"Oh,  nonsense!  Things  will  be  better  some 
day,  you'll  see." 


I 


Life  73 

The  captain  laughed  suddenly,  showing' 
stumps  of  yellow  teeth.  "Yes,  of  course !  Bet- 
ter, yes!  It'll  end  with  cut  glass  and  cham- 
pagne, you'll  see."  But  he  again  had  a  diffi- 
culty in  breathing,  his  face  was  distorted,  and 
he  put  his  hand  to  his  throat.  The  thought  of 
that  other  one  had  instantly  extinguished  this 
gleam  of  humour. 

While  Astrid  washed  up  in  the  kitchen,  he 
carefully  filled  his  one  daily  pipe  and  lay  down 
on  the  sofa  in  his  own  room.  The  clouds  of 
tobacco-smoke  floated  about  his  head,  but  he 
turned  this  way  and  that  without  rest.  A 
name,  a  memory,  a  painful  thought  may  poison 
the  pillow  and  make  it  useless  to  close  one's 
eyes ;  and  this  Captain  Riis  had  felt  more  than 
once  during  the  years  that  were  past. 

Since  he  had  shut  himself  up,  his  whole 
world  had  become  only  a  circle  of  recollections 
about  himself.  It  was  like  wandering  in  a 
withered  wood  peopled  by  dead  and  living,  and 
all  connected  with  Captain  Riis.  He  fought 
and  lost,  he  was  betrayed  and  wounded,  over 
and  over  again,  every  day,  as  surely  as  he 


74  Life 

closed  his  eyes.  Sometimes  it  was  so  rivid 
that  he  spoke  aloud  and  shook  his  fist. 

But  secretly  he  still  had  a  little  hope.  He 
was  working  upon  a  plan  for  a  new  army  or- 
ganisation, and  when  it  was  finished — ah,  then! 
He  had  dim  visions  of  redress  on  a  grand 
scale,  and  he  remembered  what  had  taken  place 
on  such  an  occasion  when  he  was  serving  for  a 
time  in  a  French  regiment.  The  general 
called  the  happy  man  up  in  front  of  the  regi- 
ment, a  speech,  an  order  on  his  breast,  the  roll 
of  drums,  present  arms!  Well,  who  could 
tell !  In  happy  moments  the  event  would  seem 
so  near  that  he  took  out  his  least  faded  uni- 
form and  brushed  it. 

It  was  a  comfort  to  let  his  thoughts  run  on 
this  now,  and  at  last  his  eyelids  drooped. 
There  was  a  sound  of  singing  in  the  kitchen. 
Ah  me!  Youth  takes  everything  easily! 

Astrid  was  scarcely  aware  of  it  herself,  but 
when  her  thoughts  were  busy  with  all  manner 
of  things  at  once,  she  sang  even  in  the  street. 

She  bent  over  the  fire,  thinking  of  her 
father's  threat  against  the  general.  Would 
anything  really  happen?  She  turned  to  the 


Life  79 

window  and  remembered  that  there  was  a  ten- 
nis-party this  evening,  to  which  she  could  not 
but  look  forward.  The  merry  Easter  party 
had  started  a  little  sports  club  among  them- 
selves, and  just  now  it  was  tennis.  But  every 
time  she  and  Reidar  came  together,  they  car- 
ried on  war.  What  should  she  use  as  a  weapon 
this  evening? 

There  were  footsteps  on  the  stair,  followed 
by  a  gentle  knocking,  and  her  brother's  fair 
head  appeared  at  the  door.  "Can  I  ?"  he  whis- 
pered. "Yes,  yes,"  she  answered,  "but  be 
careful."  And  she  served  up  a  meal  for  him, 
not  forgetting  the  last  orange. 

The  young  man  seated  himself  jauntily  upon 
the  kitchen  dresser  and  swung  his  legs  while 
he  ate.  He  was  two  or  three  and  twenty,  with 
unshaven  chin  and  bloodshot  eyes,  and  shabby 
clothes.  She  looked  at  him  with  eyes  that  were 
almost  motherly,  but  what  was  she  to  say? 

„:  .    ,  .  -  *»»* 

He  was  her  brother,  and  her  father  had  to 
suffer  for  his  excesses.  If  was  all  very  sad, 
but  there  was  no  use  in  crying  any  more. 

"Where  have  you  been?"  she  asked  in  a  low 
voice.  "Why,  it's  nearly  a  week — — " 


76  Life 

"I'm  working,"  he  interrupted,  munching 
ravenously  at  his  food.  "Indeed,  I've  got  my 
hands  full " 

She  made  a  grimace.    "Oh,  yes!" 

"I'm  studying  the  only  idealists  that  are 
still  to  be  found,  namely  criminals.  For  that 
matter,  they  oughtn't  to  be  called  that,  for  the 
true  criminals  are  such  as  him  in  there." 

Astrid  was  used  to  these  phrases,  and  she 
tossed  her  head. 

"Then  you  should  let  the  idealists  pay  your 
bills,"  she  said. 

"Oho!"  he  cried  as  he  peeled  his  orange. 
"Then  you  don't  think  that  those  who  bring 
us  into  the  world  without  first  asking  leave 
have  any  responsibilities " 

"Now  drink  a  cup  of  coffee,  but  be  quick! 
He'll  soon  be  awake." 

She  put  the  steaming  cup  in  his  hand,  and 
when  he  had  emptied  it  he  went  on:  "Do  you 
know,  I've  been  wondering  how  mother  came 
by  her  end !" 

"You  frighten  me  almost.  Now  you  must 
go." 

"Very  well  then,  good-bye,"  he  said,  as  he 


Life  77 

slipped  off  the  dresser.  "I'll  go  home  to  my 
wife  and  children." 

"What  ?"  she  said,  staring  at  him. 

"Oh,  well,  we'll  talk  about  that  another 
time.  Good-bye !" 

"Ivar,"  she  said,  pressing  a  two-krone  piece 
into  his  hand.  "You  must  excuse  its  not  be- 
ing more." 

"My  dear  girl,  you're  too  good!"  he  said, 
looking  at  her  with  a  smile  upon  his  thin  face, 
and  Astrid  went  up  to  him,  threw  her  arms 
round  his  neck,  and  kissed  him  on  the  fore- 
head. Then  she  pushed  him  gently  out  and 
closed  the  door  after  him;  but  the  tears  were 
in  her  eyes. 

"I  thought  I  heard  some  one  in  the  kitchen," 
said  the  captain,  while  they  were  drinking 
coffee.  "Yes,  it  was  the  man  with  the  coals," 
she  answered,  looking  him  calmly  in  the  face. 

Later  in  the  afternoon,  while  she  was  wash- 
ing and  ironing,  she  began  humming  again. 
She  was  going  out  this  evening,  and  before  her 
mind's  eye  there  passed  pictures  of  a  blue 
spring  sky,  green  trees,  a  setting  sun,  and 
happy,  healthy  people  playing. 


78  Life 

As  she  sat  at  the  supper-table,  she  was  try- 
ing to  find  an  excuse  for  slipping  away,  when 
her  father  leaned  back  and  looked  at  her  with 
a  mysterious  smile. 

"I've  got  something  to  read  to  you  this  eve- 
ning, my  dear." 

"No,  have  you  really?" 

"Yes.  This  afternoon,  you  see,  I  got  a  good 
way  on  with  the  section  about  the  division  of 
$he  Army.  It'll  make  a  nice  disturbance  in 
the  camp,  I  can  tell  you,  for  I've  proved  clear- 
ly that  all  generals  may  really  be  done  away 
with." 

"Couldn't  you  read  it  to  me  tomorrow, 
father?"  I  was  going  to  the  dentist  this  eve- 
ning." 

His  placid  face  instantly  darkened,  and  his 
hands  began  to  tremble.  "Oh,  of  course,  of 
course!  If  mademoiselle  has  anything  more 
important  to  attend  to,  I  won't  hinder  her!" 
And  after  supper  he  went  into  his  own  room 
and  slammed  the  door. 

A  little  later,  however,  she  slipped  into  his 
room  and  said  she  could  listen  for  half  an  hour 
at  any  rate.  He  was  pacing  angrily  up  and 


Life  79 

down  the  room,  but  now  he  grew  calmer,  found 
his  glasses,  and  took  up  a  bundle  of  manu- 
script. Astrid  had  her  knitting  and  seated 
herself  by  the  window,  and  in  his  dry  voice  he 
went  into  figures,  calculations,  technical  ex- 
pressions and  arguments  that  were  nothing 
but  Greek  to  her.  She  had  so  often  had  to 
listen  to  it,  and  there  was  something  touching 
in  the  fact  that  he  had  no  one  else  to  ask  ad- 
vice from.  But  her  thoughts  stole  away  to  the 
tennis-party.  What  o'clock  was  it  now?  She 
was  tired  with  her  day's  work,  and  longed  for 
fresh  air,  motion  and  youth. 

It  had  little  by  little  come  to  be  the  rule  for 
her  to  purchase  every  pleasure  with  white  lies. 
At  first  it  troubled  her  greatly,  but  after  each 
sunny  hour  she  came  home  the  brighter. 

What  o'clock  was  it  now?  The  man  who 
sat  reading  had  no  idea  that  a  young  girl  could 
have  a  thought  for  anything  outside  her  own 
sphere.  She  was  to  keep  his  house,  share  his 
poverty,  earn  money  to  pay  his  debts,  hate  his 
enemies,  and  help  him  to  do  away  with  gen- 
erals. She  remembered  her  brother's  words. 
It  was  horrid  of  him,  and  yet Here  she 


80  Life 

sat  herself,  filled  with  bitterness.  The  others 
were  at  the  courts  by  this  time,  the  sun  was 
setting  behind  the  great  garden,  the  evening 
was  passing.  Tomorrow  she  would  have  to 
begin  again  at  the  same  round.  Oh,  she^  would 
like  to  get  up  and  fly  far  away  to  get  air. 

"What  do  you  think  of  that?"  she  suddenly 
heard.  Her  father  was  smiling,  and  took  off 
his  glasses  in  order  to  see  her  better. 

"If  only  it's  not  too  severe,"  she  said,  with- 
out knowing  in  the  least  what  it  was  about. 

"Too  severe?  As  if  you  could  be  too  hard 
on  that  rabble!  No,  just  listen  to  this!" 

She  sighed  and  stared  straight  before  her. 
She  felt  a  peculiar  coldness  from  this  reading. 
And  yet  he  was  her  father,  and  she  was  chained 
to  him,  and  of  course  she  was  fond  of  him  too. 

When  at  last  she  was  free,  it  was  half -past 
nine,  and  she  hastened  away  to  get  at  any  rate 
a  glimpse  of  her  friends  before  they  went 
home. 

A  bright,  crimson-clouded  sky  arched  in 
houses  and  trees.  A  couple  of  white  pigeons 
flew  past  her  so  close  that  they  almost  touched 
her  face,  putting  her  in  such  good  spirits  that 


Life  81 

she  once  more  began  to  hum.  Oh,  the  delight- 
ful feeling  of  a  few  minutes'  freedom.  There 
was  much  to  be  sad  about,  it  was  true — her 
brother,  his  debts,  her  conscientious  scruples 
for  deceiving  her  father ;  but  out  here  thoughts 
of  the  mountains,  ski-ing,  dancing,  blue  sky, 
and  young  men,  flitted  through  her  mind.  It 
was  true  that  her  hands  were  red  with  her 
work,  that  she  was  not  dressed  as  well  as  the 
others,  and  that  perhaps  people  knew  both 
about  her  father  and  her  brother;  and  yet  she 
was  now  hastening  to  them  like  a  moth  to  a 
candle. 

The  tennis  courts  were  fenced  in  with  wire 
netting  and  surrounded  with  trees.  Reidar 
Bang  had  come  after  the  others,  and  there  was 
no  one  for  him  to  play  with.  He  was  there- 
fore sitting  upon  a  bench  with  a  cigar  in  his 
mouth,  watching  the  play.  He  was  vexed  at 
the  absence  of  Froken  Riis  this  evening,  for 
he  had  prepared  some  particularly  cutting  sar- 
casms for  her,  and  felt  in  the  mood  for  a  tilt 
with  her.  Oh,  these  self-willed  little  girls,  who 
imagine  themselves  somebody! 

But  there  she  was!     As  she  entered  the 


82  Life 

ground  and  caught  sight  of  him,  she  suddenly 
stopped,  looked  at  her  hands,  blushed,  and 
raised  them  to  her  hair.  Finally  she  tossed  her 
head,  and  barely  nodded  in  answer  to  his  greet- 
ing. "Now  I  can  have  a  game,  too!"  he  said 
as  he  came  up  to  her.  "Oh,  I'm  no  match  for 
you!"  she  answered  dauntlessly,  and  opened 
the  box  in  which  they  kept  their  shoes.  While 
she  was  changing,  he  was  going  to  look  an- 
other way,  but  discovered  a  hole  in  the  heel  of 
her  stocking,  whereupon  he  turned  away  in 
earnest  and  looked  down.  That  hole  in  her 
stocking,  those  red  hands — they  all  at  once 
gave  him  such  a  strange  feeling. 

"Well,  I'm  ready,"  she  said  behind  him, 
coming  forward  in  her  white  canvas  shoes,  and 
with  her  racquet  in  her  hand.  Now  he  wanted 
to  talk  to  her  differently  from  the  way  he  had 
done  before,  and  pointed  to  a  little  locket  she 
wore  round  her  neck.  "That  little  thing  is 
really  pretty,  Froken  Riis.  Did  it  belong  to — 
to  your  mother?" 

She  looked  down  and  involuntarily  put  her 
hand  up  to  the  locket,  as  though  to  guard  it 
from  his  glance.  Yes,  it  had  been  her  mother's, 


Life  83 

and  perhaps  there  had  been  something  wrong 
with  her;  but  why  should  he  come  with  his 
arrogant  glance  and  want  to  touch  it?  Before 
she  quite  knew  what  she  did,  she  had  torn  the 
locket  from  her  neck,  and  put  it  in  her  pocket. 
"Are  we  going  to  play,  or  are  we  not?"  she 
asked  with  flashing  eyes. 

"Oh,  but  really,  Froken  Riis,  I  never 

meant "  And  he  fcook  off  his  hat  in  an 

embarrassed  way. 

"Are  we  going  to  play  or  not?"  she  repeated 
in  a  high  voice,  looking  as  if  she  meant  to  go. 

"Yes,  of  course,  of  course!  I'm  quite 
ready." 

The  ball  began  to  fly  between  them.  She 
threw  off  her  hat,  and  her  golden  hair  shone 
bright  against  green  trees  and  blue  sky.  There 
came  cries  and  laughter  from  the  other  play- 
ers, and  soon  she  laughed,  too,  louder  than 
any  of  them. 

"Take  it!"  She  ran  backwards  and  for- 
wards, waves  of  hair  fell  down  over  her  glow- 
ing face  and  she  was  continually  pushing  them 
back.  She  was  delighted  to  find  that  he  was 
playing  badly  today,  and  she  took  him  in 


84  Life 

splendidly  with  little  tricks;  her  whole  body 
reflected  her  triumph,  her  nostrils  quivered 
and  her  eyes  shone.  Were  there  really  such 
things  as  troubles  in  the  world?  She  did  not 
know  them,  at  any  rate. 

Dr.  Holth  sat  outside  the  enclosure,  looking 
on.  He  was  not  a  member  of  the  club,  and  yet 
there  was  something  that  drew  him  there  every 
evening.  At  first  he  thought  there  was  some- 
thing ridiculous  about  these  grown-up  people, 
who  ran  hither  and  thither  so  excitedly  occu- 
pied with  that  ball;  but  now  he  sat  and  envied 
them.  It  was  as  if  the  game  made  them  chil- 
dren of  the  air,  the  light  and  the  green  grass. 
He  looked  at  Fru  Ramm,  who  was  playing  a 
single  with  Paul  Tangen,  at  Fru  Hiorth  and 
Captain  Ramm,  Inga  Bang  and  the  young 
architect.  One  smile  escaped  and  met  another, 
and  the  ball  flew  like  a  dart  between  two  play- 
ers. And  all  the  while  it  is  nothing  more  than 
that  faces  may  glow,  lungs  inhale  air,  lips 
smile,  and  thoughts  take  a  refreshing  bath  as 
they  flutter  like  butterflies. 

It  was  at  Astrid  Riis,  however,  that  Holtli 
looked  most.  She  was  now  so  warm  that  her 


Life  85 

blouse  clung  fast  to  her  back,  and  her  head 
with  its  golden  hair  darted  hither  and  thither 
like  a  red  cloud.  Then  there  were  her  well- 
formed  hips,  her  round  waist,  the  gladness  of 
her  voice;  it  all  seemed  to  him  to  make  up  a 
poem  on  eternal  spring. 

"Well,  what  are  you  sitting  there  for,  and 
only  looking  on?"  said  Paul  Tangen,  as  he 
passed,  literally  shining  with  perspiration. 

"Outside  is  the  best  place  for  me,"  answered 
Holth. 

"Oh,  well,  of  course  the  only  intelligent 
thing  to  do  is  to  sit  hanging  one's  head  and 
holding  a  skull  in  one's  hand.  Oh,  dear,  if 
you  could  only  forget  your  own  greatness!" 

Holth  tried  to  smile,  but  felt  hurt. 

When  Astrid  had  won  her  game  with  Rei- 
dar,  it  was  too  late  to  play  a  return.  They 
saluted  one  another  with  their  racquets,  and 
hastened  to  different  corners  to  change  their 
shoes.  Reidar  meant  to  go  home  with  the 
young  girl,  but  when  he  looked  for  her,  the 
bird  was  flown. 

Astrid  had  hurried  away,  for  she  thought  he 
would  want  to  give  an  explanation,  and  to 


86  Life 

prevent  this  would  vex  him  a  little.  She  fled 
homewards  on  rapid  feet.  Oh,  yes,  she  had 
indeed  been  at  a  dentist's.  Even  when  she 
got  in  she  was  so  warm  that  she  had  to  impro- 
vise a  shower-bath  in  the  kitchen;  and  it  was 
a  pleasure  to  stand  naked  on  the  cool  floor, 
and  then  rub  with  a  coarse  towel  until  her  skin 
was  red  and  fresh.  Then  she  blacked  her 
father's  boots  and  put  them  in  front  of  his 
door,  and  finally  crept  into  bed  happy  and 
light-hearted.  Tomorrow  the  round  of  work 
would  begin  again,  but  now  it  all  seemed  fun. 


FEU  HOLTH  was  laying  the  table  for  din- 
ner. The  tablecloth  was  not  clean,  the  glasses 
were  chipped,  and  the  children  were  making  a 
noise  round  her.  Floor  and  chairs  were  cov- 
ered with  pieces  of  sewing  and  patching,  chil- 
dren's clothes  and  toys;  but  fortunately  the 
corner  room  was  locked  up  and  all  in  order, 
with  its  palms  and  plush  furniture,  in  case  any 
one  should  come. 

Fru  Holth  had  once  been  beautiful,  but  now 
she  was  a  worn-out  housewife,  with  hollow 
cheeks  and  a  bad  figure.  She  had  also  once 
been  fond  of  music  and  reading,  but  now  she 
contented  herself  with  shopping.  She  looked 
at  the  things  in  the  large  shops  with  a  peculiar 
feeling  of  happiness,  and  it  was  a  pleasure  to 
her  to  handle  laces  and  velvets ;  but  at  the  last 
moment  she  hesitated  and  promised  to  come 
again. 

When  she  had  married  Jorgen  Holth,  every 
one  had  predicted  a  brilliant  future  for  him; 

87 


88  Life 

and  in  her  own  heart  she  had  not  given  up  the 
hope  of  it  yet.  Every  time  she  expected  him 
Home  to  dinner,  she  dreamt  almost  unwittingly 
of  some  surprise — a  professorship,  a  head- 
mastership,  something  or  other  delightful. 
She  would  hear  the  key  turn  in  the  lock,  and 
would  stand  trembling  a  little,  every  day,  year 
after  year. 

Jorgen  Holth  was  on  his  way  home,  a 
sturdily-built  man  with  books  under  his  arm. 
Since  his  Easter  holiday,  he  had  made  a  round 
every  day,  so  as  to  pass  as  many  gardens  as 
possible.  It  was  the  middle  of  May,  the  apple- 
trees  were  sprinkled  with  their  pink  and  white 
blossoms,  and  grass  and  foliage  were  green 
and  fresh.  But  when  at  last  he  had  to  turn 
into  the  narrow  street  in  which  he  lived,  his 
steps  grew  slow  and  spiritless. 

As  he  mounted  the  stairs,  he  noticed  the  bad 
air  from  the  back-yard;  and  when  he  reached 
the  third  storey  and  opened  the  hall-door,  he 
was  met  by  the  smell  of  washing,  and  ex- 
claimed: "Goodness  me,  Selma,  can't  you 
keep  that  kitchen  door  shut!" 

Fru  Holth  had  stood  trembling  a  little,  and 


Life  89 

now  quickly  closed  the  door;  and  they  were 
soon  all  sitting  round  the  table,  while  she 
helped  the  soup.  There  were  five  children, 
from  Hans,  who  was  thirteen,  to  the  one-year- 
old  Sigrid,  who  sat  on  her  mother's  knee.  The 
children  were  not  clean,  and  their  mother  still 
wore  a  stained  dressing-gown ;  and  Holth  kept 
his  head  down,  and  tried  to  think  of  something 
else. 

He  had  been  so  different  since  he  had  re- 
turned, refreshed  and  rejuvenated,  from  his 
Easter  holiday.  He  dreaded  going  home  every 
day,  and  was  glad  when  he  could  go  out ;  and 
he  was  ashamed  that  it  was  so.  These  big  chil- 
dren, one  of  whom  would  soon  be  a  man,  re- 
minded him  that  he  himself  was  no  longer 
young.  Formerly  he  had  not  noticed  how  un- 
tidy and  worn  Selma  was,  and  all  the  disorder 
and  closeness  had  not  troubled  him;  but  now 
he  felt  an  indefinable  desire  to  hide  it  all,  so 
that  none  of  those  young  women  should  come 
to  know  anything  about  it. 

He  rose  from  the  table. 

"Oh,  but  you  can't  have  had  enough  to  eat 
surely,"  she  exclaimed;  but  he  murmured 


90  Life 

something  about  being  busy,  and  went  into 
his  study.  It  was  a  small  room  looking  on  to 
the  backyard,  and  for  a  moment  he  stood  look- 
ing out  at  the  grey  wall  opposite  the  window; 
then  he  sat  down  on  the  sofa,  staring  straight 
before  him. 

In  a  drawer  lay  half -finished  pieces  of  work, 
by  means  of  which  he  could  have  risen  in  the 
world;  but  for  years  he  had  always  hurried  to 
school  from  a  sense  of  duty  to  his  family,  and 
in  the  evenings  taken  extra  work  from  a  sense 
of  duty  to  his  family,  but  never  had  he  felt  it 
so  hard  as  now. 

Up  on  the  mountains  there  had  been  young 
men  who  had  great  plans,  and  they  talked 
about  them  as  of  some  new  sport.  And  there 
had  been  young  girls  with  slender  waists,  and 
they  danced  and  breathed  out  their  encourage- 
ment towards  them. 

Holth  lay  back  on  the  sofa  and  closed  his 
eyes.  "There  were  young  people,  too,  when 
you  were  twenty.  Boys  and  girls  set  out  for 
the  country  on  Sunday  mornings,  but  you  sat 
at  the  window  with  your  book.  In  the  evening 
they  streamed  back  down  the  street,  warm 


Life  91 

and  glowing,  with  bunches  of  foliage  and  lilac, 
and  you  still  sat  at  the  window  with  your  book. 
And  now?  What  do  you  live  for,  Jorgen 
Holth?  What  have  you  attained?  What  are 
your  hopes  for  the  future?" 

He  had  accompanied  Astrid  Riis  on  her  way 
home  from  the  tennis-ground  yesterday,  and 
it  was  an  event  for  him.  They  made  a  walk  of 
it  in  the  light  but  cloudy  evening.  They  sat 
on  a  seat  and  under  the  trees  in  the  palace 
park,  and  watched  the  swans  in  the  pond ;  and 
for  the  time  he  became  a  different  being.  He 
was  no  longer  the  father  of  growing  children, 
or  a  machine  for  making  political  speeches 
with  the  bitterness  aroused  by  adversity;  no, 
he  was  twenty  and  the  world  was  new.  As  he 
talked  he  carried  the  young  girl  with  him, 
showering  down  upon  her  words  and  images, 
born  at  the  moment,  like  little  airy  poems. 
And  after  that  to  come  home  and  be  dragged 
back  into  himself!  The  air  in  the  rooms,  the 
big  children,  the  faded  wife,  his  debts,  his 
troubles,  his  duties.  The  mirror  showed  him  a 
wrinkled  face  and  hair  turned  grey,  trousers 
that  bulged  at  the  knees,  and  a  coat  that  was 


92  Life 

shiny  at  the  elbows.  He  had  prayed  last  night, 
like  the  Proven9al  poet:  "Lord,  preserve  me 
from  becoming  young  when  it  is  too  late." 

Suddenly  Fru  Holth  appeared  at  the  door, 
and  he  sprang  up  as  if  he  had  been  caught  in 
something  wrong. 

"You  must  really  excuse  me,"  she  said,  "but 
I  haven't  a  farthing  left." 

He  stood  struggling  with  a  strange  irrita- 
tion. "But  dear  me,  Selma,  didn't  you  get 
fifty  krones  the  day  before  yesterday?" 

"Yes,  but  there  were  bills  owing  both  to  the 
baker  and  the  butcher,  and  now  Ragnhild  must 
have  shoes,  and  Jens  will  soon  have  no  trousers 
to  go  to  school  in.  Where  do  you  think  I'm 
to  get  money  from?" 

"And  where  do  you  think  I'm  to  get  it 
from?" 

She  stood  rubbing  her  hands  together,  timid 
and  imploring.  "I  thought  you  had  your  sal- 
ary paid  you  today." 

"Oh,  dear,  yes,  if  that  poor  three  hundred 
krones  is  to  be  eaten  up  at  once,  there  they 
are."  And  he  threw  his  pocket-book  upon  the 
table. 


Life  93 

Fru  Holth  sank  upon  a  chair  and  sighed. 
"I  only  wish,"  she  said,  "that  you'd  take  over 
the  house  yourself,  Jorgen.  I  save  and  save 
from  morning  till  night,  and  go  long  distances 
to  get  something  a  penny  cheaper.  I  soon 
shan't  have  a  dress  to  my  back,  but  all  the 
thanks  I  get  is  scolding  and  ill-temper  every 
single  day."  She  passed  her  hand  across  her 
eyes  and  added:  "You've  grown  so  strange 
of  late,  both  to  me  and  the  children.  I'm  at 
my  wits'  end." 

"How  much  do  you  need?" 

"Oh,  give  me  whatever  you  like." 

He  began  to  walk  up  and  down,  and  said 
more  gently:  "I  do  wonder  whether  any  one 
else  in  our  position  wastes  as  much  money  as 
we  do." 

"Oh,  you  know  very  well,  Jorgen,  that  it's 
the  same  story  all  over  the  town.  Every- 
thing's getting  dearer,  but  I  think  I  manage 
with  less  than  most." 

He  stopped.  "Well,  I  must  have  a  hun- 
dred for  taxes  now,  if  we  don't  want  our  goods 
distrained.  But  there's  the  rest." 

"No,  no,  you  must  have  some  yourself." 


94  Life 

He  pressed  the  money  into  her  hand,  how- 
ever, but  she  kept  putting  some  of  it  back  into 
his,  saying  that  she  did  not  want  to  be  unrea- 
sonable, and  that  he  must  not  leave  himself 
without  pocket-money.  It  ended  in  his  put- 
ting a  ten-krone  note  into  his  waist-coat 
pocket,  thinking,  with  a  sigh,  of  the  new  suit 
of  clothes  he  had  dreamt  about. 

With  another  apology  she  slowly  rose  and 
went  quietly  out. 

There  was  no  more  room  for  dreams  in  here 
now,  for  she  had  filled  the  little  room  with  an 
atmosphere  of  daily  toil.  Indeed !  She  would 
soon  not  have  a  dress  to  her  back! 

He  walked  up  and  down,  and  called  to  mind 
the  bailiff's  pretty  daughter,  who  fifteen  years 
ago  had  placed  her  future  in  his  hands.  She 
even  had  a  little  money,  which  enabled  him  to 
go  abroad  for  a  couple  of  years.  But  then? 
He  had  not  managed  to  make  life  particularly 
easy  for  her,  and  what  had  he  been  busy  with 
of  late?  He  hung  his  head  like  a  boy  that  is 
being  scolded,  then  sank  on  to  a  chair,  and 
once  more  fell  into  a  brown  study. 

Of  course,  Selma  must  have  a  dress.     A 


Life  95 

publisher  had  offered  him  proof-reading,  but 
he  had  refused  it  in  the  hope  of  stealing  time 
for  that  work  in  his  table-drawer.  But  he 
must  let  that  lie  for  the  present.  He  would 
go  up  to  the  publisher  today.  Selma  should 
have  a  dress. 

But  when  the  decision  was  made,  he  still  sat 
with  his  chin  in  his  hands,  staring  out  at  the 
grey  wall. 

There  was  a  knock  at  the  door,  which  he 
did  not  hear,  and  in  walked  Paul  Tangen,  in  a 
smart  spring  suit,  and  his  light  Panama  hat  in 
his  hand. 

"Good  morning,  you  troglodyte,  that  are 
never  seen!  I've  news  for  you." 

Holth  felt  revived  by  this  visit,  and  sprang 
up  from  his  chair  exclaiming:  "Sit  down,  sit 
down!  Glad  to  see  you!" 

The  artist  sat  down,  not  forgetting  to  draw 
his  trousers  up  at  the  knees.  "I  say,"  he  said, 
"is  it  educational  and  of  service  to  the  com- 
munity to  sit  in  such  an  atmosphere?" 

"It  wouldn't  be  any  better  if  I  opened  the 
window.  You  see  what  a  place  I  live  in." 

"Then  why  in  the  world  do  you  live  here?" 


96  Life 

"Why  in  the  world  should  one  be  poor  and 
powerless?"  retorted  Holth,  beginning  to  walk 
up  and  down. 

"That's  what  I  don't  understand  either," 
said  Tangen,  taking  out  his  cigarette-case. 
"Of  course,  I've  tried  poverty  too,  but  I  didn't 
find  it  worth  keeping  on  with." 

"You  talk  as  if  it  were  my  own  fault!" 

"Whose  fault  do  you  make  it  then?  Ah, 
yes,  by-the-by,  you  socialists  of  course  have 
the  community  and  capital." 

"Oh,  it's  all  very  well  for  you  Jo  talk 
big- 

"It's  your  own  fault  that  you  haven't  a  rea- 
son for  doing  it,  too.  Honestly  now,  why 
aren't  you  a  famous  man?  Why  do  you  go 
about  whimpering  that  you  get  nothing  done? 
Why  do  you  live  here  ?" 

Holth  stood  still  with  his  hands  in  his 
pockets,  staring  at  his  visitor.  Tangen  care- 
fully lighted  his  cigarette.  "Excuse  my  smok- 
ing," he  said,  "but  it'll  freshen  up  the  air  a 
little.  And  in  short,  it  may  be  considered  a 
mark  of  genius  to  ship  your  oars  and  let  every- 
thing drift,  but " 


Life  97 

"And  who's  shipping  their  oars?" 

"I  don't  think  it  shows  a  more  profound  in- 
telligence to  be  ill  than  to  be  well,  and  I'm 
old-fashioned  enough  to  consider  that  it's  even 
better  to  triumph  over  adversity  than  to  give 
way  to  it.  Which  do  you  like  best  now — scent 
or  stench?  Which  does  your  ambition  require 
— admiration  or  pity?" 

Holth  sat  down  on  the  sofa,  and  gazed  at 
Tangen  with  a  stiff  smile. 

The  artist  went  on:  "I  think  I  perceive 
that  you  don't  like  me  today.  However,  I've 
come  to  tell  you  that  Reidar  Bang  is  going  to 
have  a  big  party  out  at  his  house,  for  he's  lost 
a  lot  of  money  lately." 

"Lost?  Is  that  something  to  give  a  party 
for?" 

"In  my  opinion,  yes.  I  went  out  to  Bygdo 
to  see  him,  and  found  him  in  a  wretched  state. 
That  strong  man  was  drinking  medicine  out 
of  various  bottles,  and  said  he  had  had  bad 

% 

dreams;  and  you  know  what  that  means  for 
him.  He  had  a  headache  and  was  sleeping 
badly;  and  in  Hamburg  there's  a  bankruptcy 
that  will  make  a  clean  sweep  of  a  hundred 


98  Life 

thousand  krones.  He  had  tried  riding,  sail- 
ing, swimming,  gymnastics  and  tennis,  but 
only  got  worse  and  worse.  So  I  said  he  should 
give  a  party." 

"That  was  certainly  good  advice,"  said 
Holth  with  an  attempt  at;  a  smile.  He  was 
still  sitting  motionless,  staring  at  Tangen. 

"Yes,  I  told  him  a  little  story  from  my  poor- 
est period  in  Paris.  A  wealthy  Mexican  had 
bought  pictures  from  me  for  twenty  thousand 
krones,  and  for  some  nights  my  wife  and  I 
could  not  sleep  for  sheer  joy.  Oh,  all  the 
things  we  would  buy  and  make  ourselves  fine 
with,  with  those  thousands  which  we  had  not 
yet  got,  it  is  true.  Then  came  the  Mexican's 
servant  and  announced  the  death  of  his  mas- 
ter. The  money  was  not  paid,  the  bargain 
was  off.  We  were  stunned  for  a  day  or  two, 
but  at  last  I  got  up,  smashed  the  first  thing 
I  came  across,  and  swore  I'd  give  a  party.  I 
went  out,  borrowed  or  stole  money,  bought  an 
expensive  velvet  dress  for  the  wife,  and  kept  a 
studio  cancan  going  for  a  day  or  two,  and  wine 
flowing.  'What  for?'  people  asked.  'Because 
our  dreams  are  in  ruins,'  I  said,  and  after  that 


Life  99 

I  could  look  at  myself  in  the  glass  again  and 
start  afresh." 

Holth  shook  his  head.  This  took  his  breath 
away. 

"My  view  is,"  Tangen  went  on,  as  he  flicked 
the  ash  from  his  cigarette,  "that  one  should 
make  one's  self  respected  by  fate.  If  it  is  too 
interfering,  you  give  it  a  kick  and  say:  'Keep 
your  distance,  my  friend.  I  intend  to  be  the 
master  of  us  two.'  Well,  Reidar  Bang  also 
thought  this  a  good  suggestion,  and  asked  me 
to  help  him  to  make  the  affair  as  splendid  as 
possible.  You'll  come,  of  course?" 

"Have  you  come  here  to  make  fun  of  me?" 

Tangen  threw  away  his  cigarette,  and  leaned 
back  in  his  chair.  "I  thought  it  would  do  you 
a  jolly  lot  of  good  to  get  another  freshening- 
up.  We  can't  get  on  at  all  without  some  sur- 
plus joy  in  life.  Do  you  think  any  one  can 
become  happy  by  sitting  in  such  an  atmosphere 
and  staring  at  that  wall  there?" 

"Do  you  think  any  one  can  become  happy 
by  neglectingjiis  duty?" 

Tangen  laughed.  "There  isn't  such  a  word 
as  duty  in  my  dictionary.  Whatever  we  don't 


100  Life 

do  for  pleasure  will  be  worthless;  but  the 
pleasure  comes  if  we  give  our  life  instincts  a 
little  play.  Honestly,  you're  too  good  to  be  a 
slave  to  exercise-books  and  a  few  stupid  cal- 
culations." 

Holth  got  up  and  answered  quickly:  "I've 
been  that  for  many  years."  And  ashamed  of 
this  confession,  which  seemed  almost  like 
treachery  towards  Selma  and  the  children,  he 
passed  his  hand  across  his  eyes,  and  turned  to 
the  door. 

"Look  here,  my  friend,  I  think  I  can  see 
what's  the  matter.  Is  your  digestion  all  right?" 

"Yes,"  said  Holth,  involuntarily  turning 
round. 

"Then  why  aren't  you  happy?" 

"Look  here,  Paul  Tangen !" — and  Holth  sat 
down  again — "It's  so  confoundedly  easy  for 
you  to  talk,  who  always  come  out  on  top." 

"If  you  had  a  little  feeling  of  responsibility 
for  your  family,"  continued  the  painter,  "you'd 
gather  together  so  much  joie  de  vivre  that 
you'd  be  fit  for  anything." 

Holth  burst  into  a  laugh.  "Gather  together 
joie  de  vivre.  Perhaps  for  the  sake  of  my 


Life  101 

family  I  ought  to  go  in  for  dissipation  and 
other  men's  wives  and  daughters  like " 

"I  understand  you,"  said  Tangen.  "But 
you  shouldn't  despise  us  who  gather  a  little 
honey  from  various  flowers,  so  that  our  hearts 
can  have  something  to  feed  upon  when  the 
winter  comes.  Confound  it,  is  there  any  virtue 
in  being  faithful  to  your  wife  when  she  has  to 
work  herself  to  death?" 

Holth's  lips  trembled.  He  was  getting 
angry. 

"As  for  you  and  your  unhappiness,"  said 
the  painter,  "I  would  suggest  that  you 
shouldn't  begin  by  kicking  fate.  Begin,  for 
instance,  by  ordering  a  new  suit." 

Holth  knew  Tangen's  way  of  treating  his 
friends,  and  at  last  he  could  not  help  laughing. 
"I  can't  afford  it,"  he  said  with  a  sigh. 

Tangen  put  on  his  hat.  "Has  it  never  oc- 
curred to  you,"  he  said,  "that  Dame  Fortune 
really  exists,  and  that  she  doesn't  care  for  men 
with  shiny  coats  and  unshaven  chins?  Come 
with  me  to  my  court  tailor." 

In  the  end,  Holth  actually  went  into  town 
with  his  friend,  but  only  for  the  sake  of  the 


102  Life 

walk.  They  went  through  the  park  under  the 
trees,  and  the  artist  said:  "Haven't  you  no- 
ticed that  a  rejuvenescence  is  just  now  passing 
over  Norway?  The  new  generation  is  not 
stupified  with  politics  or  literary  hospital  at- 
mosphere. No,  they  dress  well,  go  in  for  sport, 
dancing  and  physical  training.  Out  of  the 
joy  of  living  comes  action,  and  if  you  only 
wait  you'll  see.  So  first  the  new  suit,  then 
another  flat,  then  some  one  to  take  your  place 
in  the  school  while  you  finish  your  books,  and 
if  you're  not  man  enough  for  that,  try  and 
fall  in  love  with  a  pretty  girl,  and  she'll  put 
life  into  you." 

Before  he  knew  what  he  was  about,  Holth 
was  standing  with  Tangen  outside  the  tailor's 
door,  and  without  rightly  understanding  how 
it  came  about,  he  found  himself  inside  being 
measured.  It  was  folly,  it  was  nonsense,  and 
yet — it  was  done  now. 

When  they  came  out  again,  Tangen  said: 
"Do  you  know,  I  believe  Reidar  Bang's  suf- 
fering from  spring-fever,  and  I  shouldn't  won- 
der if  it  wasn't  on  account  of  Astrid  Riis.  If 


Life  103 

that  stone  were  to  take  fire,  he  ought  to  begin 
to  take  medicine  in  earnest." 

After  a  brief  pause,  Holth  answered: 
"Well,  he's  young,  and  free,  and  well-off.  It 
would  be  a  good  match  for  her." 

On  his  way  home  alone,  he  walked  with  bent 
head.  Yes,  of  course.  Reidar  Bang  was 
young.  And  free. 

He  would  go  to  the  merrymaking,  however, 
and  try  to  forget  his  own  years.  Light  dresses 
against  the  blue  water,  bonfires  along  the 
shore,  music  and  dancing.  Astrid  Riis  would 
be  there,  too. 

He  wandered  about  for  a  long  time  in  the 
park.  He  sat  upon  the  seat  where  they,  too, 
had  sat  yesterday.  But  at  last  he  had  to  go 
home.  Exercise-books,  examination  prelim- 
inaries, municipal  elections,  lectures,  and  the 
literary  work  in  his  table-drawer.  And  then 
there  was  the  proof-reading  and  Selma's  dress. 

But  when  Fru  Holth  opened  the  door  of  his 
study  to  tell  him  supper  was  ready,  she  stood 
still  with  her  eyes  almost  starting  out  of  her 
head ;  for  her  husband  was  gliding  round  and 
round,  practising  a  waltz. 


VI 


IT  was  by  no  means  always  that  Paul  Tan- 
gen  was  in  good  spirits.  When  alone  in  his 
studio,  he  would  often  lie  for  hours, on  a  couch, 
plunged  in  deepest  melancholy.  He  often  felt 
uncertain  with  regard  to  his  art,  and  he  had 
enemies  whose  opinions  would  then  flow  in 
upon  him  and  overwhelm  him.  He  was  sick 
with  impatience  at  the  time  it  took  to  become 
world-renowned,  as  he  thirsted  to  be,  and  he 
would  grow  so  weary  of  these  continual  strug- 
gles to  get  further,  that  he  felt  tempted  to  give 
it  all  up  and  return  to  ordinary  life. 

At  such  times,  memories  of  his  childhood 
came  to  him  like  actual  visions.  He  was  mind- 
ing the  goats  on  the  mountain,  he  was  fishing 
in  the  lake,  he  felt  again  his  terror  of  thunder 
and  lightning  because  it  might  be  the  Day  of 
Judgment;  but  he  also  saw  the  evening  array 
itself  in  crimson  and  gold  as  a  reminiscence  of 
paradise.  It  is  true  he  was  ragged  and  dirty 
then,  but  on  the  other  hand,  it  was  holiday 

104 


Life  105 

when  he  washed.  Christmas  Eve,  with  the 
glow  from  the  stove  and  a  clean  shirt  airing 
over  a  chair-back,  filled  him  with  a  far  greater 
solemnity  than  a  whole  town  full  of  church 
bells  now.  And  then  there  were  the  girls 

It  helped  a  little  every  summer  to  strap  a 
knapsack  on  his  back,  and  wander  about  at 
haphazard  through  forest  and  mountain.  He 
would  go  from  sseter  to  sseter,  and  seemed  to 
get  very  near  to  the  old  days  when  he  joined 
company  with  woodcutters,  or  sat  down  beside 
a  goatherd,  or  chopped  wood  and  fetched 
water  for  a  dairymaid.  But  when  he  went  on 
again,  something  seemed  to  follow  at  his  back 
in  the  clouds  and  twilight.  It  was  age,  whis- 
pering that  what  is  past  can  never  be  recalled. 

The  golden  light  of  summer  was  now 
streaming  through  the  skylight,  and  he  sud- 
denly started  up  as  if  awaking  from  sleep. 
The  door  opened,  and  Fru  Tangen  entered, 
dressed  in  a  loose  white  dress,  and  holding  a 
little  girl  by  the  hand. 

"May  we  come  in?"  she  said  with  an  anxious 
smile.  "I  only  wanted  your  opinion  about  my 
dress." 


106  Life 

She  was  a  woman  of  about  thirty,  of  medium 
height,  slender  and  dark.  She  had  once  been 
prettier  than  she  was  now,  but  then  it  had  cost 
her  many  a  struggle  to  be  resigned  and  look  as 
if  all  was  well. 

Tangen  looked  critically  at  his  wife's  dress 
without  speaking.  She  had  gradually  become 
quite  dependent  on  his  taste,  and  he  designed 
not  only  her  dresses,  but  also  her  bracelets, 
rings,  brooches  and  pins,  which  were  all  little 
works  of  art. 

"The  large  fold  over  the  left  hip  isn't  right/' 
he  said,  going  up  to  her  to  rearrange  it.  "But 
except  for  that  it's  all  right."  He  put  his  arm 
round  her  waist;  there  was  something  so  fresh 
and  clean  about  her ;  it  was  her  hair,  it  was  the 
white  dress,  it  was  the  warmth  of  summer  in 
her  skin.  He  took  her  head  between  his  hands 
and  kissed  her  lips  and  eyes. 

"I  really  have  the  best  wife  in  the  world. 
That's  what  I  always  say." 

"Oh,  yes,  I'm  sure  you  say  so!" 

He  gave  a  little  sigh  and  turned  his  eyes 
away  for  a  moment,  but  then  looked  into  hers 
again,  smiling. 


Life  107 

"I  was  just  lying  and  thinking  what  would 
have  become  of  me  if  the  chain  hadn't  been  so 
strong." 

"Is  it  I  that  am  the  chain?" 

"Yes.  Everybody  knows  jthat  I'm  a  hen- 
pecked husband." 

"Oh,  you're  very  much  to  be  pitied!  Have 
you  been  working  hard  today?" 

"No;  but  then  you  haven't  been  in  before." 

"Oh,  nonsense!"  she  said  with  a  rougish 
smile.  "Come,  Ragnhild,"  she  went  on  to  the 
little  girl  who  was  occupied  in  looking  at  the 
numerous  pictures  along  the  wall.  "Come 
now;  we  mustn't  disturb  father,  you  know." 

Tangen  took  the  little  girl  up  in  his  arms 
and  carried  her  to  her  mother,  kissing  her  on 
the  forehead  as  he  did  so. 

"Shall  we  play  blind-man's-buff  today, 
papa?"  she  asked. 

"Yes,  dear.  Come  up  a  little  before  dinner, 
and  you  shall  blindfold  me  again." 

"Good-bye,  then!"  said  her  mother  as  she 
disappeared  with  the  little  girl. 

Tangen  stood  listening  to  their  footsteps  as 
they  died  away,  then  stripped  off  his  coat,  put 


108  Life 

on  his  painting  blouse,  and  began  to  work.  It 
was  always  good  to  receive  a  visit  from  this 
woman,  who  never  uttered  a  word  of  reproach, 
but  accepted  with  gratitude  what  he  gave. 
Heigh-ho! 

He  now  placed  on  his  easel  a  half-finished 
picture,  which  in  fact  was  more  a  poem.  Good- 
ness knew  whether  anything  would  ever  come 
of  it,  but  when  he  was  in  good  spirits  it  was  a 
pleasure  to  him  to  stand  and  work  at  it.  'The 
Procession'  it  was  called,  and  he  had  really 
got  the  idea  from  his  brother.  It  happened 
one  day  that  the  two  brothers  were  wandering 
through  the  town  and  imagining  an  entirely 
new  capital.  They  pulled  down  blocks,  and 
built  up  beautiful  ones  in  their  places;  they 
planned  new  streets,  opened  squares,  and 
erected  monuments.  Henrik  Tangen  had  even 
begun  to  make  drawings  of  what  they  had 
planned,  and  for  a  time  worked  at  them  night 
and  day  like  an  inspired  poet;  and  his  work 
was  indeed  a  poem  in  buildings,  colonnades, 
fountains,  gardens  and  parks.  "It  will  scarce- 
ly be  in  our  time,"  he  said;  "but  it  will  come 
some  day.  Not  in  twenty  years,  scarcely  in 


Life  109 

forty;  but  it  will  come.  In  a  hundred  years, 
Kristiania  will  be  the  Athens  of  Europe.  See 
here- 
One  day  Paul  too  began  to  give  life  to  some 
of  this  dream-town.  The  picture  showed  a 
temple  standing  on  Ekeberg  Hill,  with  a  wide 
flight  of  marble  steps  leading  up  to  it.  The 
great  building  stood  out  against  a  blue  sum- 
mer sky,  flecked  with  silvery  clouds,  and  was 
surrounded  by  fir,  birch  and  bird-cherry  trees. 
Up  the  broad  steps  went  a  procession  of  young 
women,  their  slender  forms  dimly  outlined 
through  their  flowing  white  robes,  and  with 
sandals  on  their  feet.  Their  faces  were  bright 
and  confident,  and  in  one  hand  they  bore 
branches  of  apple-blossom,  ripened  by  the  sun 
and  the  fresh  breeze  from  the  blue  fjord. 

It  was  this  dream  of  women  of  the  far-off 
future  that  he  was  now  endeavouring  to  bring 
to  life.  There  were  none  such  now;  no,  but 
there  would  be  some  day.  They  would  be  chil- 
dren of  their  country's  wind  and  sun;  they 
would  be  the  embodiment  of  the  poetry  of  the 
mountains,  the  sea  and  the  light  nights.  Per- 
haps they  would  live  in  houses  where  there  was 


110  Life 

never  an  inharmonious  sound,  and  where  the 
air  was  always  pure.  Perhaps  they  would  live 
in  an  age  when  only  one  thing  would  be  pun- 
ished as  a  sin,  namely,  bad  taste.  Perhaps 
they  would  be  priestesses  of  a  new  religion  so 
beautiful  that  no  one  now  could  have  any  con- 
ception of  it.  Where  were  they  going?  To 
sacrifice.  To  whom?  To  the  God  they  wor- 
ship— Light  perhaps.  Were  they  singing  now, 
or  were  they  going  to  sing  when  they  came  up? 
Song  was  already  in  their  eyes,  smile,  and  the 
movement  of  their  limbs;  and  the  pink  and 
white  apple-blossom  in  their  hands  was  wet 
with  dew. 

It  was  a  colour-poem  on  young  forms,  but 
gradually  the  artist's  own  recollections  were 
mingled  with  it,  and  he  often  stood  back  from 
it  with  a  smile.  Yes,  he  ought  to  know  these 
faces  as  they  came  more  and  more  to  life.  Yes, 
of  course ;  they  were— they  were  women  he  had 
-known  in  years  past. 

So  they  wanted  to  join  this  procession,  did 
they?  Very  well,  though  many  of  them  were 
no  longer  either  pretty  or  young.  "Is  that 


Life  111 

you?"  he  would  say  with  a  smile.  "And  you, 
too?  But  don't  you  know  you're  dead?" 

He  was  just  standing  with  his  palette  in  one 
hand,  and  lighting  a  cigarette  when  there  was 
a  tap  at  the  door,  and  in  a  vexed  tone  he  called 
/'Come  in." 

The  door  opened  and  General  Bang  entered, 
in  overcoat  and  silk  hat. 

"Good  morning,  monsieur!"  he  said,  a  little 
out  of  breath.  Once  inside  the  door,  the  old 
gentleman  stood  with  his  hat  in  one  hand  and 
his  stick  in  the  other,  looking  about  him.  Tan- 
gen  wiped  his  hands  and  went  forward  to  wel- 
come him,  but  the  general  still  stood  examin- 
ing the  room  from  floor  to  ceiling. 

"Is  this  a  studio?" 

"That's  what  it's  supposed  to  be.  Have  you 
never ?" 

"No,  sir.  It's  the  first  time  I  ever  entered  a 
temple  of  art.  Indeed!  And  that — is  that 
art?  What  a  number!  I  thought  you  sold 
most  of  your  works.  Oh,  but  see  here!"  and 
he  took  up  a  position  in  front  of  the  easel,  and 
took  out  his  glasses.  For  some  time  he  stood 
looking  at  it  in  silence,  and  at  last  exclaimed: 


112  Life 

"Confoundedly  pretty  models  you  get!  What 
does  your  wife  say  to  it?" 

"Oh,  of  course  my  wife  is  the  model  for  all 
of  them,"  said  Tangen  carelessly,  with  a  smile. 

"So  I  should  think,  sir!  Oh,  yes!  So  1 
should  think!"  He  looked  at  the  picture 
again,  and  then  turned  to  the  artist.  "Have 
you  been  successful  with  the  fair  sex?" 

"Unfortunately,  no.  It's  only  the  older 
beaux  who  understand  the  art." 

"Oh,  but  they  don't  understand  it  either,  not 
all  of  them,  at  least,"  said  the  general,  looking 
away  to  the  window.  "One  will  do  all  he  can 
with  no  result,  while  another  is  occupied  with 
altogether  different  things  and  can  have  any 
number.  Success — and  failure — they're  things 
one  can  never  understand." 

Tangen  drew  up  an  armchair,  and  the  gen- 
eral looked  first  at  him  and  then  at  the  chair, 
and  finally  said:  "Well,  I  may  as  well  sit 
down,  for  I've  come  to  speak  to  you  on  a  very 
important  matter,  or  rather  to  call  you  to 
account."  He  seated  himself,  placed  his  hat 
upon  the  table  and  supported  both  hands  upon 
his  stick.  Tangen  felt  a  little  uneasy,  but  for 


Life  113 

the  moment  he  was  not  aware  of  any  wrong- 
doing that  concerned  this  man. 

"You  have  a  nice  brother,  sir,"  began  the 
general,  looking  sharply  at  the  artist.  "Well 
— no  one  can  hear  us  here,  I  suppose." 

"Oh,  dear,  no!" 

"What  do  you  say  yourself  about  your 
brother?" 

"He  has  just  one  fault.  He's  so  much 
greater  a  man  than  I." 

"Thanks.  But  let  me  tell  you  that  both  you 
and  your  brother  are  rogues.  What  do  you 
say  to  that?" 

"You  are  always  right,  sir."  And  Tangen 
offered  him  a  cigar. 

"No,  thank  you.  Keep  your  cigars  to 
yourself,  and  don't  put  me  off  with  atten- 
tions. I  come  to  you  because  you  introduced 
your  brother  into  my  house,  and  you  must  be 
responsible  for  what  he  does." 

"I  only  wish  I  had  no  worse  responsibil- 
ity." 

"There  now!  You  think  it's  nothing  if  he 
turns  my  daughter's  head  so  that  she  neither 


114  Life 

sleeps  nor  eats,  and  goes  about  talking  non- 
sense about  meaning  to  marry  him!" 
"Doesn't  he  want  to  marry  her  then?" 
The  general  jumped  up.    "Wants  to!    Did 
you  ask  whether  he  wants  to  marry  my — my 
daughter?" 

Tangen  looked  at  the  general  and  smiled. 
There  was  a  pause. 

"Why  don't  you  say  something?" 
"To  tell  the  truth,  my  brother  is  such  a 
rising  man  that  there'll  be  a  rush  for  him 
among  the  girls ;  but  I  think  he  might  be  con- 
tent with  a  single  one — your  daughter,  for 
instance." 

The  old  man  stamped  on  the  floor,  and 
seemed  inclined  to  move  up  and  down,  but 
he  stood  still. 

"Be  content,  eh?  With  my  daughter,  eh? 
Well,  I  don't;  want  to  offend  you,  but — 

your — brother " 

"Well,  my  brother  has  been  a  carpenter." 
"Carpenter — well,    well,    it    wasn't    really 

that,  but And  the  general  looked  ques- 

tioningly    at  the   other   and   compressed   his 
lips. 


Life  115 

"It  comes  in  very  handy  now  that  he's  an 
architect." 

"Architect!  May  I  ask  which  houses  he's 
built?" 

"Supposing  I  were  to  ask  what  battles 
you  have  fought  in,  sir?" 

The  general's  face  flushed,  and  he  turned 
as  if  to  go,  but  stopped  again.  "Let  me  tell 
you,"  he  said,  "that — that  your  brother  must 
leave  my  daughter  alone!  The  fact  is  I've 
thought  of  some  one  else  for  her." 

"In  four  or  five  years,  every  one  will  be 
saying  that  she's  made  a  good  match." 

The  general  threw  out  his  hand  and  began 
to  walk  up  and  down.  Tangen  stood  still, 
apparently  occupied  with  his  picture.  There 
was  a  fresh  pause,  while  the  old  man  paced 
up  and  down.  At  last  he  said:  "I  say, 
young  man,  were  you  really  a  peasant  lad?" 
He  was  no  longer  quite  so  angry. 

Tangen  looked  at  him  and  smiled,  but 
made  no  answer. 

"And  your  brother — is  he  really " 

"Oh,  it's  very  possible  that  my  brother's 
better  connected." 


116  Life 

"Ha,  ha,  ha!  You're  not  bad  at  answer- 
ing! But  let  me  tell  you  that  I've  had  an 
idea  for  a  long  time  that  your  brother  was 
up  to  something  with  my  daughter,  and  I'd 
have  shown  him  the  door  long  ago,  if — if  I 
— well,  confound  it,  I — I — when  all's  said 
and  done,  I  like  him." 

"You're  always  right,  sir." 

"And  the  confounded  part  of  it  is  that  he's 
not  only  turned  my  daughter's  head,  but  my 
wife's  too,  so  that  there's  no  peace  for  me  at 
home  now.  It's  quite  preposterous!" 

"May  I  not  now  offer  my  brother's  father- 
in-law  a  cigar?" 

"Yes,  I  may  just  as  well  take  it  at  once, 
for  I  suppose  the  battle's  lost  anyhow." 

"And  perhaps  a  glass  of  cold  white  wine 
this  hot  day?" 

"Wine!  No,  thank  you,  you'll  not  get  me 
as  far  as  that.  I  came  here  to  drive  you 
into  a  corner,  and  now  I'm  going.  Good- 
by!"  And  he  took  up  his  hat  and  stick,  and 
drew  on  one  glove. 

"I've  got  some  Johannisberger  from  1850." 

The  general  pretended  not  to  hear,   but 


Life  117 

murmured  "Goodby"  again  and  prepared  to 
go.  At  the  door,  however,  he  turned.  "What 
did  you  say  that  wine  was?" 

"We'll  see  in  a  moment,"  said  the  artist, 
going  to  the  bell  and  ringing. 

"You're  a  confounded  rogue!"  sighed  the 
general,  coming  slowly  back. 

A  little  later  they  were  sitting  with  the  tall 
bottle  of  white  wine  in  ice  beside  them,  while 
they  smoked  and  toasted  one  another.  No 
one  could  be  more  genial  than  the  old  officer 
when  he  liked.  Suddenly  he  leaned  back  and 
looked  at  his  companion. 

"I  say,"  he  said,  "what's  the  matter  with 
my  son  Reidar?  Have  you  noticed  how  dif- 
ferent he  is?" 

"It's  the  spring,  sir.  It's  a  dangerous  time 
for  young  people." 

"La  femme?" 

"Do  you  think,  sir,  that  a  man  of  any  ini-^N 
portance  ever  goes  through  a  spring  without  / 
being  in  love?" 

The  general  stretched  out  his  legs  and 
laughed.  "It's  those  confounded  Easter  par- 
ties, that's  what  it  is.  So  many  engagements 


118  Life 

have  come  about  up  on  the  mountains,  that 
I'm  thinking  of  pulling  down  the  houses. 
What  was  I  going  to  say?  Oh,  yes.  Do 
you  know  anything  about  Froken  Riis?" 

"She's  a  fine  girl,  and  pretty,  too.  But 
they  say  she's  got  an  unhappy  home." 

The  general's  face  reddened  with  the  wine, 
and  he  dropped  his  eyes.  The  sun  had  passed 
away  from  the  skylight,  and  the  large  room 
was  filled  with  a  bluish  light. 

"Her  father,  Captain  Riis,  was  a  comrade 
of  mine.  There  now,  he  was  another  man 
who  cut  a  dash  and  set  to  work  to  get  on, 
but — well,  there  luck  comes  in  again.  It 
was  never  any  use,  and  at  last  he  got  swelled 
head,  and  was  venomous,  too,  and  he  is  that 
still." 

"They  say  his  wife  was  beautiful,"  said 
Tangen  innocently,  as  he  lighted  a  fresh 
cigar. 

The  general  looked  at  him  sharply,  and 
then  emptied  his  glass.  "Yes,"  he  said, 
"there's  no  doubt  she  was  good-looking. 
Good  morning,  sir."  And  he  rose,  took  up 


Life  119 

his  hat,  and  walked  a  little  stiffly  towards  the 
door. 

"We  shall  meet  at  Reidar's  at  his  Midsum- 
mer Eve  party,  I  suppose?  It's  put  off  un- 
til then,  isn't  it?  And  of  course  you're  help- 
ing him  to  put  a  little  style  into  it." 

"It's  nice  that  you're  to  be  one  of  the  party, 
sir." 

"Be  one  of  the  party.  You  may  take  your 
oath  that  where  there  are  young  people  I'm 
one  of  the  party."  And  he  waved  his  hat 
and  went  out  backwards.  But  the  next  mo- 
ment he  appeared  in  the  doorway  again,  as 
if  he  had  forgotten  something. 

"By-the-by,  have  you  ever  noticed  that  a 
young  girl  can  be  so  exactly  the  image  of  her 
mother  that — that  you  feel  yourself  taken 
back  twenty  years?  You're  right  about  Fro- 
ken  Riis  being  a  pretty  girl."  And  he  nod- 
ded and  disappeared  once  more.  Tangen 
went  downstairs  with  him. 

He  had  scarcely  settled  to  work  again, 
when  there  was  a  loud  knock  at  the  door,  and 
Henrik  entered  with  a  cigar  in  his  mouth 
and  his  straw  hat  on  the  back  of  his  head. 


120  Life 

"Bonjour,  Monsieur!"  he  said  gaily.  The 
artist,  in  a  trice,  turned  his  picture  round, 
for  he  would  not  have  his  brother  see  it  for 
the  world. 

"Sit  down,  man,  and  don't  look  herej" 

"What  in  the  world " 

"Sit  down,  and  quickly,  too,  and  don't 
move !" 

"Goodness  me,  do  you  think  I'm  so  keen  to 
see  what  you're  daubing  at!"  And  the 
younger  man  threw  himself  on  to  a  couch. 

"I  can  tell  you  I've  had  my  work  cut  out 
just  now  to  save  you  from  bolts  and  bars," 
said  the  elder  brother  with  a  serious  face. 

"I  can  quite  believe  it." 

"There  have  been  two  constables  here 
with  the  girl's  father,  wanting  to  know  where 
you're  to  be  found.  The  father  was  green 
and  yellow  with  rage.  What  in  the  devil's 
name  have  you  done  with  the  girl?" 

Henrik  removed  the  cigar  from  his  mouth 
and  slowly  rose.  "I  say,  Paul,  what's  all  this 
about?" 

"What's  it  all  about?  Don't  you  know 
that  there's  the  house  of  correction  for  a 


121 


carpenter  who  makes  love  to  a  general's 
daughter?" 

At  this  the  younger  man  burst  into  a  laugh 
of  relief,  and  threw  himself  back  on  the  couch 
again.  "Are  you  sitting  and  drinking  in  the 
very  middle  of  the  morning?"  he  said. 

"I've  had  to  fetch  out  the  first  bottle  of 
wine  for  your  wedding.  Perhaps  there's  a 
little  left.  Your  health!" 

The  younger  brother  still  regarded  the  el- 
der with  reverence,  and  when  Paul  talked 
about  women,  Henrik  became  quite  bashful. 

He  now  emptied  his  glass,  and  said  with  a 
smile:  "Do  you  remember,  Paul,  when  you 
brought  me  in  from  the  country,  and  when 
at  first  I  slept  on  the  floor  of  your  room?" 

"And  when  we  took  a  pair  of  trousers  on 
tick  in  one  shop,  and  pawned  them  in  another 
to  get  money  for  our  supper?" 

"Yes.    How  different  it  is  now!" 

"What  are  you  doing  now,  boy?  I  never 
see  you,"  said  Paul,  trying  to  look  severe. 

"Doing?  I  go  about  intoxicating  myself 
with  scenery  and  people;  that's  what  I'm  do- 
ing. When  you've  been  away  for  five  years, 


122  Life 

you  feel  famished  for  your  own  country. 
Last  night  I  slept  under  a  tree  in  Nordmark, 
this  morning  I  breakfasted  with  a  workman 
at  Grorud,  and  today  I'm  going  to  dine  at 
the  general's.  How  beautiful  it  all  is,  isn't 
it?  The  people,  the  wooded  hills  round  the 
town,  the  fjord,  the  islands,  the  ships  that 
come  and  go,  but  most  beautiful  of  all — the 
women.  I  met  the  young  wife  of  a  workman 
on  a  path  up  in  Nordmark,  and  I  emptied 
my  purse  and  told  her  she  should  have  it  all 
because  she  was  so  pretty,  and  because  she 
met  me  just  there.  She  blushed  and  looked 
prettier  still,  and  went  on  with  her  eyes  on 
the  ground.  Do  you  know  what  it  means  to 
live?  It's  something  of  that  sort.  Can  you 
conceive  that  anybody  can  be  unhappy?" 
"Be  quiet,  boy !  You're  in  love,  of  course !" 
The  other  leaned  back  and  looked  straight 
before  him. 

"Then  every  now  and  then  I  came  upon  a 
white  house  among  the  green  trees,  and  I  was 
so  glad  every  time;  for  oh,  those  beaver-huts 
in  dragon-style,  and  with  boils  on  all  sides — 
shocking!  Isn't  it  strange  that  only  when  a 


Life  123 

human  habitation  resembles  a  leper  do  our 
prophets  become  enthusiastic  and  call  it  na- 
tional. No,  no,  we  must  have  an  architec- 
tural style  that  is  born  of  our  scenery — of  the 
curves  of  the  mountains  and  hills,  the  majesty 
of  the  trees,  the  strength  of  the  men,  the  easy 
carriage  of  the  women.  But  wait!  It  will 
come  some  day,  and  it  will  trickle  out  over 
the  world  like  a  rejuvenating  flood.  Wait, 
wait!" 

"Be  quiet,  boy!    You're  in  love!" 

"Well,  you  can't  see  that  in  our  architec- 
ture, anyhow — that  its  masters  have  been  in 
love." 

"And  what's  your  news?" 

Henrik  got  up  and  swung  round  on  the 
floor.  I've  taken  a  place  in  an  architect's  of- 
fice— in  the  meantime — at  two  hundred  krones 
a  month." 

"And  that's  what  you're  going  to  marry 
upon?" 

"Of  course.  And  if  her  rich  relations  are 
afraid  that  we  shall  be  a  burden  to  them, 
they're  very  much  mistaken.  We've  agreed 
only  to  spend  what  we  earn  ourselves." 


124  Life 

It  sounded  very  well,  but  Paul  thought  with 
anxiety  how  this  enthusiastic  young  man 
might  become  a  slave  to  his  work  in  order  to 
earn  money  for  his  family. 

"But  what's  that  I  see?"  exclaimed  Hen- 
rik.  "Have  you  begun  to  model?"  And  he 
gazed  into  the  background  of  the  studio, 
where  there  stood  a  bust  swathed  in  a  wet 
sheet. 

Paul  coloured  as  if  his  brother  had  sur- 
prised him  in  a  ridiculous  weakness;  and  a 
brother  is  the  last  person  to  whom  that  is 
allowed. 

"Let  it  alone!"  he  said,  emptying  the  last 
of  the  wine  into  the  glasses.  "But  don't  you 
ever  feel  a  desire  for  other  forms  of  art? 
I  should  like  to  combine  painting,  music  and 
sculpture  in  a  single  work." 

"Why,  that's  just  what  architecture  does! 
It's  the  human  mind  in  stone — philosophy 
and  astronomy,  poetry  and  music,  colour  and 
line.  There's  really  no  need  of  any  other 
art." 

"Be  quiet!  You're  in  love!"  said  the 
painter,  raising  his  glass. 


Life  125 

They  sat  for  some  time  talking,  and  at  last 
Henrik  stretched  himself  full  length  on  the 
couch.  "I  don't  think  I  slept  much  last 
night;  the  blossoming  bird-cherry  I  lay  and 
looked  up  into  was  so  much  too  beautiful." 

Paul  got  up  and  began  doing  a  little  here 
and  there  in  the  studio;  and  when,  after  a 
little,  he  looked  at  his  brother,  the  young 
man  with  the  pale  face  lay  with  his  chin  in 
the  air  asleep. 

Paul  stood  looking  at  him  with  a  peculiar 
smile.  How  would  things  go  with  him,  and 
how  long  would  his  soul  keep  as  fresh  and 
fiery  as  it  now  was? 

He  found  a  rug,  which  he  spread  with  ma- 
ternal care  over  his  brother,  and  then  went 
quietly  out,  leaving  him  to  sleep  undisturbed. 


VII 

EVERY  time  Astrid  Riis  had  been  one  of 
the  merry  party  at  the  general's,  she  seemed 
to  bring  home  a  quantity  of  sunshine.  It  was 
true  she  was  wrong  to  deceive  her  father  as 
she  did,  but  it  was  a  comfort  that  there  was 
at  any  rate  one  member  of  the  general's  fam- 
ily whom  she  could  not  bear,  namely  Reidar. 
Every  time  she  was  able  to  show  him  cold- 
ness, or  say  something  cutting  to  him,  she 
felt  her  conscience  lightened.  Thank  good- 
ness, she  had  not  quite  gone  over  to  the  enemy 
yet! 

All  at  once,  however,  the  young  merchant 
altered  his  behaviour  toward  her,  and  became 
polite  and  attentive.  Astrid  felt  it  was  a 
triumph.  She  would  manage  to  humble  the 
proud  man  still  morel  And  yet  at  the  same 
time  she  was  a  little  afraid.  How  was  this 
going  to  end? 

Her  father  was  ailing  for  a  few  days,  and 

she  had  to  stay  at  home;  and  now  it  seemed 

I2e 


Life  127 

as  if  not  only  her  father's  complaints,  buf 
every  little  thing  in  the  house  acted  upon  her 
and  called  her  back  into  her  old  ways.  The 
atmosphere  was  heavy  indoors,  the  sun  did 
not  shine  in  until  the  evening,  and  only  a 
glimpse  of  the  sky  was  to  be  seen  above  the 
housetops,  but  the  flowers  in  the  window 
seemed  so  neglected  that  it  became  a  pleasure 
to  her  to  be  there  and  tend  them  again,  and 
even  the  copper  kettle  in  the  kitchen  seemed 
to  ask  her  where  she  had  been.  "Have  you 
betrayed  your  father,  yourself  and  us?"  And 
when  she  had  to  go  in  to  the  old  man,  it  was 
with  bowed  head. 

"I  won't  do  it  again,"  she  said  to  herself. 
"If  father  were  to  die  now,  I  should  never 
have  another  happy  day." 

So  she  stayed  at  home,  and  the  copper  ket- 
tle grew  brighter,  the  window-plants  more 
vigorous,  and  her  father  in  better  spirits,  be- 
cause she  took  such  a  lively  interest  in  his 
great  plans  for  army  organisation;  but  she 
herself  began  to  pass  sleepless  nights,  and 
it  was  hard  to  get  up  in  the  morning,  and 


128  Life 

the  day  seemed  so  unspeakably  grey  and 
long. 

There  awoke  in  her  young  body  a  kind  of 
hunger  for  blue  sky  and  happy  motion;  and 
when  she  left  her  office,  and  took  a  road  past 
as  many  gardens  and  groups  of  trees  as  pos- 
sible, and  then  had  to  hurry  home,  it  was  like 
going  into  a  prison.  It  was  not  only  that 
her  home  was  poor,  sunless  and  confined,  but 
its  range  of  ideas  was  nothing  but  plans  of 
revenge  and  pain;  and  she  often  felt  it  so 
clammy  and  uninviting  that  she  wanted  to 
shake  it  off. 

Her  brother  came  now  and  then  by  the 
back  stairs  to  get  something  to  eat,  and 
while  he  as  usual  spoke  evil  of  the  old  man, 
Astrid  sat  quietly  listening.  She  shook  her 
head,  it  is  true,  but  each  time  she  shook  it 
a  little  less;  for  she  had  to  confess  to  herself 
that  General  Bang  was  certainly  not  a  mon- 
ster. It  was  inconceivable  that  he  could 
have  wanted  to  crush  any  one.  Was  her 
father  mistaken,  or ? 

But  once  more  she  shook  it  off.  It  was  too 
bad  of  her  to  think  such  things  of  her  father. 


Life  129 

An  invitation  came  for  her  to  Reidar 
Bang's  Midsummer  Eve  party,  and  she  de- 
clined it.  But  she  was  obliged  to  have  a  sum- 
mer dress,  and  in  order  to  be  able  to  afford 
it,  she  dismissed  the  woman  who  had  done 
the  heaviest  part  of  the  cleaning  for  her,  and 
washed  floors  and  stairs  herself;  and  she  was 
often  thoroughly  tired  out  when  she  went  to 
bed.  Her  hands  gfre_w  rough  and  her  arms 
red;  and  when  she  looked  in  the  glass,  she 
thought  there  were  rings  under  her  eyes. 

More  of  her  brother's  bills  had  come  to 
the  house,  and  after  a  couple  of  sleepless 
nights,  the  captain  decided  to  go  out  and 
look  for  some  sort  of  work.  It  was  no  road 
to  glory  he  trod;  he  was  old  and  would  be 
rejected,  but  he  went.  He  knocked  at  sev- 
eral doors,  and  tried  to  hold  himself  erect  as 
he  went  to  the  next,  and  at  last  was  given 
some  map-work  for  a  firm  of  engineers. 
Then  one  day  he  stood  with  his  glasses  half- 
way down  his  nose,  trying  to  draw.  It  went 
well  for  a  time,  but  soon  his  eyes  failed  him, 
and  his  hand  was  no  longer  steady.  But 
it  must  be  done. 


130  Life 

One  day  he  read  that  General  Bang  had 
received  a  Russian  order.  That  man  was 
always  rising  in  the  favour  of  the  Fates,  while 
he  himself  always  fell.  And  what  about  the 
bomb  he  had  so  long  been  threatened  with? 

He  did  not  find  it  easier  to  sleep  after  this. 
Up  on  the  heights  his  enemy  holds  high  fes- 
tival in  the  golden  halls.  What  victories  have 
you  won,  general?  Oh,  I  crushed  a  fellow 
officer.  Well  done!  Here  is  an  order.  And 
where  is  Captain  Riis?  He  is  in  chains  in 
the  cellar,  and  his  children — well.  And  the 
captain  turned  in  bed,  and  looked  out  into 
the  darkness,  and  raved. 

Finally  he  rose  one  day  with  unusual  en- 
ergy, and  with  compressed  lips  began  to  turn 
over  some  papers;  but  when  the  little  packet 
of  yellow  documents  lay  upon  the  writing- 
table  before  him,  they  seemed  to  have  shrunk 
into  something  that  would  not  bear  the  light 
of  day.  As  long  as  they  lay  in  the  drawer, 
they  had  seemed  to  him  a  bomb,  but  now! 

And  yet  he  brushed  his  faded  frock-coat, 
Smoothed  his  worn  silk  hat,  and  walked  with 
fixed  gaze  and  eager  steps  down  town  to  the 


Life  131 

office  of  his  belowed  "Morning  Paper."  He 
felt  it  like  a  visit  to  a  doctor  about  suffering 
that  had  gone  on  for  years  and  could  no 
longer  be  borne. 

An  hour  later  he  came  up  again,  with 
heavy  steps  and  taking  side  streets.  The 
editor  had  refused  him;  the  subject  was  too 
old  and  doubtful,  and  was  no  longer  of  in- 
terest. 

Out  in  the  streets  the  life  was  gay  and  the 
sun  shone,  and  people  laughed  and  ran  on, 
and  everything  seemed  to  taunt  him  with  the 
words:  "Do  you  think  the  world  has  noth- 
ing to  do  but  listen  to  your  nonsense?"  Cap- 
tain Riis  compressed  his  lips  and  walked  on, 
trying  to  hold  himself  erect.  The  worst  of  it 
was  that  he  felt  an  enemy  within  himself.  It 
was  a  feeling  of  shame.  Every  one  could  see 
that  he  was  a  hero  who  had  wanted  to  de- 
nounce a  fellow-officer,  but  had  been  refused. 

When  Astrid  came  home,  she  found  her 
father  in  bed,  and  for  the  next  few  days  his 
temper  was  trying.  What  he  ate  and  drank 
tasted  ill,  his  bed  was  badly  made,  the  room 
was  too  dark  or  it  was  too  light,  Astrid  was 


132  Life 

in  his  room  too  much,  but  as  soon  as  she  left 
it  he  rang  the  bell  again. 

One  day,  on  her  way  home  from  the  office, 
she  met  Dr.  Holth. 

"Why,  this  is  really  a  discovery!"  he  ex- 
claimed. "Where  have  you  been  all  this  time, 
Froken  Riis?" 

She  really  enjoyed  walking  with  him,  not 
only  because  it  recalled  the  merry  Easter 
party,  but  because  he  talked  in  just  as  inter- 
esting a  way  now  as  when  he  taught  art- 
history  and  Norwegian  at  her  school.  She 
had  raved  about  him  then,  and  he  was  still 
surrounded  by  a  kind  of  halo  of  all  the  beau- 
tiful ideas  he  had  put  before  his  pupils. 

They  went  up  the  palace  hill  under  the 
green  trees,  and  though  she  ought  to  have 
hurried,  they  walked  slowly. 

"Do  you  know,  Froken  Riis,  that  no  town 
is  more  beautiful  than  our  beloved  capital 
just  now?  It's  not  the  building,  oh,  dear 
no!  Nor  the  hills,  nor  the  fjord,  nor  the  long 
evenings.  No,  it's  the  young  girls.  When 
they  come  out  of  the  offices  and  shops  at 
dinner-time,  and  stream  up  through  the 


Life  133 

town,  they  are  like  perpetual  summer.  Their 
faces  have  felt  the  first  breath  of  the  sun, 
their  eyes  are  full  of  expectation  of  an  expe- 
dition or  a  meeting,  and  they  set  off,  so  sim- 
ply dressed,  but  glowing  with  health  and 
good  spirits.  Isn't  it  strange  that  I  see  it 
this  year  for  the  first  time?  If  only  I  were 
a  poet  and  could  write  a  hymn  to  the  young 
Norwegian  girl !  But  here  I  am  walking  with 
one  of  them,  and  though  life  is  full  of  misery, 
your  being  here  and  looking  at  me  a  little 
and  listening  to  me  compensates  for  a  good 
deal." 

She  blushed  and  smiled.  "Why,  it's  much 
more  fun  for  me  to  walk  with  and  listen  to 
you!" 

"Really?  Then  we  can  walk  up  together 
another  time." 

And  now  she  was  joined  by  Dr.  Holth  on 
her  way  home  nearly  every  day.  She  did  not 
consider  much  whether  it  was  chance  or  not, 
but  to  listen  to  him  was  like  taking  journeys 
into  distant  regions.  His  voice  was  feeling, 
his  words  so  earnest.  It  was  now  the  only 
diversion  in  her  long  day,  and  when  she 


134  Life 

parted  from  him,  it  was  to  go  into  a  dismal 
backyard  flat,  where  poverty  and  tribulation 
sat  waiting  on  every  chair. 

Her  father  was  up  again,  now  standing 
for  a  moment  at  his  drawing-table,  and  the 
next  being  struck  with  a  good  idea  for  his 
army-organisation  plan,  and  going  to  another 
table  to  make  a  note  of  it.  The  first  was 
duty  work,  the  second  the  little  spark  of  hope 
that  still  kept  him  up.  Oh,  there  was  still  a 
slight  possibility  of  redress;  the  thing  was  to 
hold  out. 

Astrid  came  in  from  her  conversation  with 
Holth  in  such  good  spirits  that  she  herself 
suggested  that  her  father  should  read  aloud 
to  her  again.  He  read  for  hours,  and  she 
sat  and  listened  with  a  strange  far-away  look 
in  her  eyes,  but  always  impatient  to  hear 
more.  She  had  so  much  to  make  up  to  him. 

Holth  lent  her  an  illustrated  history  of  art, 
and  she  lay  and  read  it  at  night  in  bed.  Again 
it  was  like  travelling  in  regions  where  every- 
thing was  brighter  and  richer  than  here. 
Some  of  it  she  did  not  understand,  and  she 


Life  135 

looked  forward  to  her  next  meeting  with 
Holth,  when  she  could  ask  him  about  it. 

But  many  of  the  pictures  resembled  Reidar 
Bang.  She  found  him  as  a  condottiere  on 
horseback;  he  was  a  Greek  statue,  the  Roman 
Csesar;  and  at  last  she  threw  down  the  book 
in  vexation.  She  began  to  think  more  than 
ever  of  her  mother.  Why  did  her  father  men- 
tion her  so  seldom?  There  must  have  been 
something  wrong  about  her,  too.  In  her 
room  there  hung  a  faded  photograph  of  a 
young  woman  in  a  white  dress  and  with  a 
bright  smile.  That  was  what  she  was  like. 
What  had  the  days  been  like  for  her,  and  why 
did  she  die  so  early?  Had  she,  too,  had  a 
sunless  home  to  toil  in?  Was  she,  too,  chained 
to  some  one  who  only  thought  of  himself? 
Perhaps  she  too  had  to  steal  away  to  the 
pleasure  she  was  to  have,  and  then  one  day 
conscience  had  said  "Stop!"  and  her  duties 
began.  'And  then  she  died.  Yes,  then  she 
died. 

A  strange  time  began  for  Astrid  now. 
This  mother  of  hers  began  to  be  so  real;  she 
felt  her  beside  her  when  she  was  tired;  she 


136  Life 

sided  with  her  when  her  father  was  unreason- 
able; and  when  she  lay  despondent  in  her 
bed  and  shed  tears,  that  bright  picture  on  the 
wall  smiled  at  her  until  she  felt  a  desire  to 
fold  her  hands  and  pray  to  her. 

She  knew  very  little  about  this  woman,  and 
she  did  not  notice  that  she  endowed  her  with 
her  own  secret  wishes;  but  it  was  not  so 
hard  to  think  a  little  defiantly  about  her 
father,  or  to  long  for  a  game  of  tennis,  when 
her  mother  always  took  her  part. 

One  day  at  supper  she  said:  "Father,  do 
you  know  today  I  saw  a  son  of  General 
Bang." 

"Did  you  really?  Well,  lie  must  have  been 
a  fine  gentleman!" 

"He  was  awful!"  she  said.  "A  conceited 
dandy!  They  say  he  rides  well  and  is  clever 
at  ski-iug,  but  in  other  respects  he's  rather 
wanting  in  intelligence." 

"Where  did  you  have  the  honour  of  mak- 
ing the  gentleman's  acquaintance?"  asked  the 
old  man,  raising  his  red-rimmed  eyes. 

She  was  afraid  of  blushing,  but  answered 
quietly:  "He  came  into  the  office.  My 


Life  137 

principal  seems  to  have  business  transactions 
with  him." 

Thank  goodness,  she  managed  that  alright! 
But  the  fresh  untruth  was  like  giving  her  old 
father  a  blow  in  the  face.  How  could  she — 
those  hollow  cheeks  and  sleepless  eyes!  Never 
again,  never  again! 

To  cheer  him  she  went  on  after  a  little: 
"Father,  you  once  said  that  the  bomb  was 
soon  going  to  explode,  didn't  you?" 

"Oh  yes,  yes,"  he  answered  peevishly.  "Of 
course  it's  going  to  explode  all  in  good  time! 
Just  don't  you  meddle!" 

Afterwards  Astrid  felt  very  uncomfort- 
able because  she  had  also  told  an  untruth  about 
Reidar  Bang.  He  wasn't  conceited,  and  he 
wasn't  a  dandy  at  all.  It  wasn't  true. 

Nevertheless  it  was  not  long  before  she 
again  cheered  tne  old  man  by  saying  some- 
thing unkind  about  the  general's  son.  Peo- 
ple said  he  was  dreadful  to  his  work-people, 
and  he  would  willingly  risk  his  whole  for- 
tune to  crush  a  rival.  That  was  what  he 
was  like.  Yes,  he  took  after  his  father. 

Afterwards   she   was   ashamed   of   herself 


138  Life 

again,  for  Reidar  was  very  good  to  his  work- 
people, and  ready  to  help  his  brother-mer- 
chants. She  had  said  what  was  not  true. 

But  a  strange  desire  was  always  impelling 
her  to  bring  him  into  the  conversation,  and 
then  she  would  say  something  bad  about  him 
rather  than  not  mention  his  name. 

One  evening  she  lay  as  usual,  looking  at 
the  bright  portrait  over  there  on  the  wall, 
when  a  thought  came  into  her  head,  so  fool- 
ish and  impossible  that  she  could  not  help 
laughing.  Supposing  she  were  some  day  to 
become  fond  of  Reidar  and  appeared  before 
her  father  to  say  she  was  going  to  marry  a 
son  of  General  Bang.  Heavens!  Her  father 
would  either  have  a  fit,  or  send  her  flying 
down  the  stairs! 

"But  what  would  you  say,  mother?"  she 
suddenly  asked,  looking  towards  the  picture. 
And  the  bright  woman  over  there  answered: 

» "First  of  all,  be  happy!  The  old  have  no 
right  to  stand  in  your  way." 

She  turned  to  the  wall,  and  drew  the 
clothes  over  her  head.  If  Reidar  knew  the 
bad  things  she  had  said  of  him!  Oh  well,  she 


Life  139 

didn't  care!  And  she  turned  over  again  and 
tried  to  sleep. 

How  pleading  and  humble  he  was  when  he 
stood  with  his  hat  in  his  hand  on  the  tennis- 
ground  asking  if  he  might  see  her  home,  and 
her  answer  had  been  like  a  slap  in  the  face. 
And  what  had  she  not  said  to  him  that  time 
— and  that  time — and  that  time! 

She  didn't  care!  Now  she  would  be  be- 
traying her  father  in  this  too.  Now  she 
would  begin  to  like  Reidar,  you  would  see! 
No,  never,  never!  There  are  limits  to  every- 
thing. 

But  people  say  he  is  so  good  to  his  mother, 
and  his  grandmother  worships  him.  He 
looks  well  after  his  work-people  too.  They 
say  he  has  a  big  library  and  beautiful  paint- 
ings in  his  home.  What  was  it  you  said  to 
him  that  time — and  that — and  that? 

One  night  she  sprang  up,  half  asleep,  and 
cried  out:  "Mother,  help  me!  Don't  you 
see  how  he  haunts  me?" 

One  afternoon  she  was  ironing  in  the 
kitchen  when  there  came  a  knock  at  the  back 
door.  When  she  opened  it,  Inga  Bang  ap- 


140  Life 

peared,  breathless  and  rosy,  but  pretty  in  her 
new  summer  dress. 

"What  in  the  world  has  become  of  you, 
you  naughty  girl!  Thank  goodness  I've 
found  you  at  last!"  And  she  came  in,  though 
Astrid  would  have  liked  to  ask  her  to  go 
again.  They  had  been  friends  for  a  couple 
of  years,  but  until  now  Inga  had  never  been 
allowed  to  come  up.  It  was  not  only  for  the 
captain's  sake,  but  Astrid  was  ashamed  for 
her  to  see  their  rooms. 

"Well,  you  can  see  I'm  the  maid,"  she  said, 
pointing  to  the  spots  on  her  kitchen-apron. 

"We  thought  you  must  be  ill,"  said  the 
other.  "But  to  be  a  maid — why,  that's  only 
jolly." 

"You  think  it's  jolly,  do  you?" 

"Of  course.     I'm  going  to  be  one  myself 


soon." 


"What?" 

"And  such  a  tiny  kitchen,  and  so  few 
things  on  the  walls — oh,  it's  splendid!"  The 
young  girl  was  charmed  with  the  barely  fur- 
nished kitchen.  "That's  just  how  we  shall 
have  it.  Oh,  it  will  be  fun!" 


Life  141 

"Really  today  you're  speaking  in  riddles. 
Did  you  say  you  were  going  to  have  a  kitchen 
like  this?" 

"Exactly  like  it,  Astrid.  I'm  going  to  get 
married  soon,  you  see,  and  Henrik  earns 
only  two  hundred  krones  a  month,  and  he 
swears  that  no  one  shall  help  us  with  a  far- 
thing and  I  quite  agree  with  him.  But  we 
shan't  be  able  to  afford  a  servant,  you  see,  so 
I  shall  have  to  do  everything  myself,  and 
that'll  be  fun.  Tell  me,  isn't  it  awfully  jolly 
to  cook  and  wash  up?" 

Astrid  had  first  of  all  to  kiss  her  friend 
and  congratulate  her.  "I  did  have  a  suspi- 
cion of  it,"  she  said,  "but  are  you  really  go- 
ing to  be  married  soon?" 

"Oh  yes,  why  should  we  wait?  Henrik 
is  busy  making  the  furniture,  for  he  wants 
to  do  everything  himself.  And  every  time 
we  go  for  a  walk,  we  go  and  look  at  flats. 
Three  rooms  and  a  kitchen  in  the  meantime. 
You  don't  know  how  splendid  it  is!" 

Astrid  looked  at  this  pretty,  spoiled  daugh- 
ter of  wealthy  parents,  who  had  never  needed 
to  put  her  hand  to  anything.  She  talked 


142  Life 

about  cooking  and  running  the  house  for  al- 
most nothing,  as  if  it  were  a  dance  or  a  ski- 
ing expedition  with  her  fiance. 

"Now,  Astrid,  you  must  really  teach  me 
how  to  save,  for  I've  no  idea  how  to  do  it. 
Do  you  think  one  box  of  matches  a  week 
will  be  enough?  I'm  calculating  all  day 
long,  but  I  must  make  some  of  the  items  less. 
Is  half  a  krone  a  week  for  soft  soap  too 
much?  Fancy!  I  shall  wash  my  husband's 
shirts  myself!  Won't  it  be  fun?" 

Astrid  smiled,  but  sighed.  "Oh  yes,  per- 
haps it'll  be  fun  when  it's  for  your  husband." 

"How  much  meat  shall  we  need  a  month? 
•But  I  expect  you  can  live  cheaper  on  fish, 
and  really  meat  is  not  very  necessary,  is  it?" 

Astrid  did  not  want  to  discourage  her,  but 
she  looked  at  the  young  girl,  standing  there 
pretty  and  cheerful,  full  of  a  desire  to  work 
and  save  for  the  man  she  loved.  And  she 
herself? 

"Sit  down  now,  and  take  a  cup  of  tea  with 
me  out  here  in  the  kitchen,"  she  said.  "I 
can't  ask  you  in  unfortunately." 

Inga  gathered  up  her  dress  and  sat  down, 


Life  143 

her  gloved  hand  resting  on  the  handle  of  her 
sunshade.  The  white  veil  on  her  straw  hat 
waved  about  her  rosy  face  and  dark  hair, 
her  arching  eyebrows  and  sparkling  eyes. 

"And  there's  one  more  thing  that  you 
really  must  do  for  me.  You  must  engage 
me  as  your  servant  for  a  few  hours  every 
day.  No,  don't  laugh,  for  I'm  in  earnest. 
I'll  come  here  and  learn  to  make  a  nice 
dinner  out  of  little  things,  and  I'll  wash  floors, 
and  mend  and  iron  and  do  the  shopping,  and 
you  can  slap  my  ringers  and  scold  when  I'm 
stupid.  At  home  mother  won't  let  me,  you 
know,  nor  father  either;  but  I  will,  I  will 
learn  it  all  thoroughly  before  we  start  house- 
keeping. Won't  you  do  this  for  me?'* 

Astrid  was  busy  with  the  tea  over  the  fire, 
and  said:  "I  think  you're  quite  mad  today, 
Inga.  Did  you  come  here  to  make  fun  of 
me?" 

"To  make  fun  of  you!  Why  it's  you,  I 
should  say,  who  are  conceited  because  you're 
so  much  cleverer.  You  don't  know  how  peo- 
ple admire  you  and  talk  about  you,  as  if  you 


144  Life 

were  a  perfect  saint.  Because,  you  know, 
it's  leaked  out  how  splendid  you  are." 

"Who  talks  about  me?"  said  Astrid,  turn- 
ing to  her  companion. 

"You  should  hear  my  brother  Reidar,  the 
woman-hater.  You've  tamed  him  thoroughly. 
He  asks  after  you  a  dozen  times  in  an  hour, 
and  I  think  he  has  a  wild  idea  of  coming  up 
Jo  the  kitchen  here  to  find  you." 

Astrid  turned  away  to  the  range  and  said: 
"I  think  he'd  better  not  try  that." 

Inga  laughed.  "Better  not  try!  And  you 
think!  Do  you  think  he  cares  what  you 
think,  or  what's  proper?  Oh,  no,  if  one  day 
he  considers  it's  right,  he'll  come,  and  if  you, 
fasten  the  door  he'll  put  his  shoulder  against 
it  and  break  it  in.  He's  a  man  who  does 
what  he  likes,  so  make  no  mistake.  But  I 
say,  you  don't  really  mean  you're  not  coming 
the  day  after  tomorrow?" 

"Yes,  I  do.  I  have  a  mind  of  my  own  too, 
and  I  don't  intend  to  come." 

Astrid  poured  out  the  tea,  and  the  two  girls 
sat  at  the  kitchen  dresser  while  they  drank  it. 


Life  145 

Inga  grew  more  and  more  eager.  Why 
wouldn't  she  come  and  have  a  little  fun? 

"Let's  change  the  subject." 

"Don't  you  like  Reidar?" 

"That's  a  pretty  dress  you've  got  on." 

"Tell  me  honestly  now — do  you  think  he's 
so  bad?  You  should  just  know  who  it 
really  is  he's  making  all  this  fuss  for." 

Astrid  looked  at  Inga.  "Who  it's  for?" 
she  said  tonelessly. 

"Yes.  Do  you  think  it's  like  him  to  get 
together  so  many  people  at  his  house,  and 
engage  a  whole  orchestra  and  decorate  and 
turn  everything  topsy  turvy  just  for  one  eve- 
ning— he  who  likes  nothing  better  than  ly- 
ing alone  and  drifting  in  a  sailing-boat." 

"I  don't  understand  what  you  mean,"  said 
Astrid,  looking  towards  the  window.  "Be- 
sides, I  haven't  a  dress." 

"That's  capital!"  said  the  other,  jumping 
up  in  delight. 

"What!  Is  it  capital  that  I  haven't  a 
dress?" 

"Yes,  for  then  we'll  make  one,  of  course. 
You  can  understand  that  I  shall  have  to  make 


146  Life 

my  own  dresses  hereafter,  and  so  I've  been 
learning  a  little  cutting  out.  We'll  set  about 
it  at  once.  Have  you  got  the  stuff?" 

"I  see  you're  quite  mad  today.  No,  I 
haven't  the  stuff,  either." 

"Then  we'll  go  out  and  buy  it.  Have  you 
any  money?  If  not — 

"Yes,  yes,  set  your  mind  at  rest.  I've 
money  enough  for  quite  a  cheap  summer 
dress." 

"All  right,  then  put  on  your  things.'7 

Inga  had  come  like  a  breath  of  fresh  air 
from  all  that  Astrid  secretly  longed  for;  and 
without  quite  realising  it,  she  dressed  and 
found  herself  on  the  way  downstairs  to  go 
out  and  buy  a  dress-material.  She  had  to 
have  it  in  any  case.  She  was  not  going  to 
the  merrymaking.  Nothing  would  induce 
herl 

At  supper,  the  old  captain  made  no  objec- 
tion to  Astrid's  having  a  dressmaker  in  the 
house.  "It's  a  good  thing  if  you  can  afford 
anything  of  the  sort,"  he  said  with  a  sigh. 

"Well,    father,"    she    said,    "I've    saved    a 


Life  147 

little  this  month  by  washing  the  floors  and 
stairs  myself." 

"Very  well,  child,  I've  nothing  to  say 
against  it.  But  isn't  the  dressmaker  going  to 
have  any  supper?" 

"Yes,  she's  having  it  in  the  kitchen." 

There  was  a  great  deal  of  whispering  be- 
tween the  two  girls  later  in  the  evening.  They 
cut  out,  they  tacked,  they  tried  on  again  and 
again,  and  the  sewing-machine  hummed.  But 
suddenly  a  well-known  footstep  was  heard, 
and  Astrid's  heart  stood  still.  The  door 
opened  and  the  captain  stood  on  the  thresh- 
old. Inga  jumped  up  and  curtseyed. 

"Froken  Isaken,"  said  Astrid  by  way  of 
introduction,  and  saved  the  situation.  Inga 
had  quite  forgotten  the  part  she  was  to  play, 
and  was  about  to  correct  the  name,  but  felt 
a  foot  upon  her  own.  The  captain  saw  his 
coming  had  disturbed  them,  and  smilingly 
withdrew.  When  he  was  gone,  both  the  girls 
drew  a  breath  of  relief. 

When  Inga  finally  went,  she  had  obtained 
leave  to  come  again  and  act  as  servant.  All 


148  Life 

that  was  needed  was  to  prepare  the  old  man, 
and  it  would  be  all  right. 

During  the  night,  the  half-finished  dress 
on  the  chair  seemed  to  become  alive.  Astrid 
thought  her  mother  came  and  put  it  on. 
"Look,  my  daughter!  I  was  once  beautiful 
too.  You  are  beautiful  now.  Festivities 
were  held  for  me  too  in  the  long  summer  eve- 
nings; but  then  I  was  put  into  fetters,  and  at 
last  I  could  do  no  more.  Take  care,  child! 
You  are  only  young  once;  don't  waste  your 
best  days;  one  day  it  will  be  too  late." 

The  following  evening  Inga  could  not  come 
and  help  her,  for  Reidar  wanted  her  out  at 
his  house.  "Thank  goodness!"  thought  As- 
trid. "Then  the  dress  won't  be  ready,  and 
that  can  be  my  excuse." 

And  yet  after  supper  she  could  not  settle 
to  anything  else,  neither  needlework  nor  a 
book;  and  almost  without  her  will,  the  sew- 
ing-machine began  to  hum,  and  the  hours 
passed.  The  red  summer  evening  sky  glowed 
above  the  house-roofs  outside,  and  flooded 
her  hair  and  face  with  a  golden  light,  while 
her  hands  worked  and  her  thoughts  flew  far. 


Life  149 

At  last  there  was  nothing  left  to  do  but  to 
sew  the  buttons  on,  and  that  she  would  not 
do.  And  yet  her  hands  began  to  sew  them 
on. 

Her  father  was  probably  lying  awake 
thinking  melancholy  thoughts,  while  she — 
what  was  she  doing?  Every  stitch  seemed 
like  treachery,  and  suddenly  her  hands 
dropped  in  her  lap.  Why  was  she  doing 
this?  And  for  the  first  time  her  eyes  were 
opened  to  the  fact  that  lately  whenever  she 
had  had  dreams  of  freedom  and  youth,  she 
had  involuntarily  thought  of  Reidar  Bang. 
Her  brightest  hopes  had  apparelled  them- 
selves in  his  form — and  why?  Why?  It  was 
as  though  he  stood  upon  the  other  side  of  an 
abyss  and  beckoned.  "Come  here!  There  is 
everything  here  that  you  long  for.  Only 
come!  Dare  the  leap,  even  if  you  have  to  set 
your  foot  upon  your  father!" 

She  wanted  to  sew,  but  her  fingers  trem- 
bled. She  looked  imploringly  up  at  the  bright 
picture  on  the  wall,  and  it  smiled  encourage- 
ment at  her.  There  was  only  one  more  but- 
ton now,  and  for  Reidar's  sake  she  might  as 


150  Life 

well  sew  it  on;  and  her  very  hands  tingled 
with  joy,  as  if  it  were  her  wedding-dress  she 
was  working  at,  and  then  with  fear,  as  if  she 
were  stitching  at  her  father's  shroud. 

When  at  last  the  dress  was  finished,  she 
threw  herself  upon  the  bed  and  buried  her 
face  in  the  pillow. 


yin 

IT  was  true  midsummer  weather  in  the 
Kristiania  valley,  with  pale  blue  haze  and 
the  air  so  still  that  the  sailing  boats  on  the 
fjord  seemed  to  be  hovering  motionless  above 
rosy  clouds  and  brown  hillsides.  Flags  were 
flying  over  the  town,  upon  the  hills  around, 
over  the  forest  of  masts  in  the  harbour,  and 
over  Reidar  Bang's  house  on  Bygdo  Island, 
where  the  fir-wood  stretched  green  arches 
down  to  the  fjord. 

Indoors  Inga  was  carrying  on  a  reign  of 
terror  among  the  maids,  in  preparation  for 
the  arrival  of  the  guests.  Reidar  himself  was 
walking  on  the  shore,  bareheaded  and  in 
smoking- jacket,  glancing  now  and  again  at 
Paul  Tangen,  who  walked  beside  him.  He 
felt  desperate,  for  here  was  he  in  a  state  of 
anxiety  as  to  whether  a  certain  little  girl 
were  coming  or  not!  "You're  becoming  a 
weakling!"  he  said  to  himself.  "You  once 

ventured  to  defy  your  father  and  leave  the 

161 


152  Life 

military  college.  You  didn't  go  home  after- 
wards, but  went  on  board  an  emigrant-ship, 
and  many  of  your  experiences  in  Klondyke 
are  worthy  of  a  man.  But  now — now  you 
can't  sleep  at  night  because — hff!" 

He  felt  as  if  something  cowardly  had  be- 
gun to  steal  round  him,  and  what  he  had  to 
do  was  to  get  rid  of  it.  If  the  girl  did  not 
come,  he  would  hold  high  festival  this  evening, 
treat  every  one  to  champagne,  pour  paraffin 
on  the  big  wood-stack  down  on  the  rocks,  so 
that  his  Midsummer  Eve  bonfire  should  be 
talked  about.  Did  she  think  she  could  spoil 
his  party  then? 

"Will  you  do  me  a  service  by  letting  your- 
self go  tonight?"  he  said  to  Tangen. 

"Yes,  by  the  gods  I  will!" 

But  Paul  Tangen  was  pale,  and  inwardly 
he  was  feeling  far  from  gay.  With  his  usual 
carelessness  in  money-matters  he  had  recently 
fallen  into  the  hands  of  money-lenders,  and 
several  hopes  of  selling  pictures  had  been 
disappointed.  He  would  never  think  of  ask- 
ing his  wealthy  friend  for  assistance,  and 
now  his  home  must  be  put  up  for  auction. 


Life  153 

Well,  to  move  into  the  country  and  begin 
a  new  struggle  with  poverty  did  not  frighten 
him  exactly;  but  when  he  got  his  head  above 
water  again,  he  would  not  be  young  any 
longer.  The  gay  light-hearted  years  of  which 
he  had  had  no  experience  until  he  was  near- 
ing  forty,  were  probably  over  now  and  would 
never  come  again.  He  was  holding  festival 
this  evening  for  the  last  time;  but  even  his 
wife  did  not  know  it  yet,  for  he  wanted  her  to 
have  a  cloudless  Midsummer  Eve. 

"I'm  not  well,"  said  Reidar,  looking  philo- 
sophically into  the  distance. 

"No,  I've  noticed  it!" 

"What!     Have  you  really  noticed  it?" 

"Who  could  help  it?"  Tangen  answered, 
talking  as  if  he  himself  was  free  from  care 
and  therefore  able  to  enter  into  his  friend's 
troubles.  "Through  the  latter  part  of  the 
spring  you've  not  been  yourself  at  all.  I 
don't  allude  to  your  having  given  up  dumb- 
bells and  cold  water,  and  taken  to  medicine 
before  and  after  meals.  No,  you've  become 
so  full  of  feeling,  my  friend.  This  year 
you've  tended  your  flowers  with  your  own 


154  Life 

hand;  you've  taken  to  keeping  pigeons  and 
a  canary;  and  your  handkerchiefs  are  so  per- 
fumed that  the  wasps  fly  after  you,  thinking 
you're  a  flower.  There's  something  the  mat- 
ter with  him,  I've  said " 

"You're  a  confounded  idiot,"  cried  Reidar, 
giving  him  a  push  so  that  he  fell  into  an  ap- 
ple-tree. "And  besides,  you're  mistaken,  be- 
cause the  fact  is  I'm  studying  a  subject  for  a 
novel!" 

"What!"  exclaimed  Tangen,  who  was  once 
more  at  his  side.  "What  are  vou  studying, 
did  you  say?" 

"You  can  make  as  much  fun  of  me  as  you 
like,  but  I've  often  said,  most  of  what's  writ- 
ten in  novels  is  nonsense  from  beginning  to 
end.  Lave,  for  instance,  oloesn't  beginjwith 
sighs  and  moonlight.  Oh,  no!  I  will  sup- 
pose a  man  at  first  despises  a  girl,  and  thinks 
her  stupid  and  ugly,  but  then — this  is  only  a 
supposed  case — then  one  day  he  sees  her 
changing  her  shoes  and  discovers  a  little  hole 
in  the  heel  of  her  stocking." 

"Aha!"  said  the  artist.     "And  what  then?" 

"What  then'?     Why  this  poor  little  heel 


Life  155 

keeps  coming  into  his  mind  after  that,  and  he 
also  remembers  that  her  hands  are  red,  and 
la  desire  comes  upon  him  to  take  her  into 
his  arms  and  carry  her  away  into  a  brighter 
world.  He  approaches  her,  but  she  mistrusts 
him ;  he  humbles  himself,  but  she  answers  him 
with  flashing  eyes.  And  he — he  swears  he'll 
have  nothing  to  do  with  her;  but  he  can't  do 
it,  and  it's  all  the  fault  of  that  confounded 
stocking-heel.  Yes,  that's  how  love  can  be- 
gin, or  rather  that's  how  a  sensible  man  loses 
his  head.  No,  you're  quite  right;  one  ought 
to  punch  misfortune's  head,  and  give  a  party 
to  defy  it." 

At  that  moment  a  motor-car  stopped  at 
'the  garden  gate,  and  the  two  men  hastened 
towards  it.  It  was  the  general  with  his  wife 
and  daughter,  Fru  Captain  Ramm,  and 
youngest  son  the  engineer.  Inga  was  in- 
stantly on  the  spot  as  hostess,  still  warm  with 
all  she  had  done,  in  a  pale  yellow  muslin 
frock  with  a  wide  lace  collar  and  yellow 
flowers  in  her  dark  hair.  The  general  looked 
at  her  for  a  moment,  and  then  stooped  and 
kissed  her  hand. 


156  Life 

"Are  you  pleased  with  me,  father?" 

"Come  here,  Inga,"  called  Fru  Bang,  who 
was  already  on  the  verandah.  She  did  not 
approve  of  her  husband's  manner  of  treating 
his  daughters. 

"This  evening  we're  going  to  dance  our- 
selves happy  and  mad  again,"  said  Paul  Tan- 
gen  to  Fru  Ramm. 

"Yes,  you  others,"  she  replied  with  a  faint 
smile,  as  she  put  up  her  parasol. 

She  was  dressed  in  white,  and  wore  a  white 
hat  with  a  large  black  ostrich  feather;  and  of 
late  her  almost  too  round  rosy  face  had  ac- 
quired a  shade  of  melancholy  that  made  her 
prettier  than  before. 

"You're  never  to  be  seen  now,"  he  said 
lightly,  to  which  she  replied  with  a  bitter 
smile  and  turned  away. 

The  garden  gate  opened  again,  and  Inga 
and  Reidar  were  kept  busy  in  their  capacity 
of  hostess  and  host.  Light  dresses  and  uni- 
forms sailed  in  among  dark  clothes,  and  now 
and  then  a  pair  of  striped  trousers  beneath 
a  long  coat.  There  were  engineers,  come 
from  railways  that  were  being  laid  through 


Life  157 

forest  and  over  mountain,  as  brown  as  In- 
dians, busy  city  men  who  had  only  just  had 
time  to  go  home  and  change.  Then  came  a 
sunburnt  arctic  traveller,  then  a  couple  of 
barristers  and  a  young  diplomat,  and  lastly 
a  forty-year-old  industrial  king,  plump  and 
smiling,  between  a  Danish  prima  donna  and 
a  famous  singer.  They  kept  on  coming, 
mostly  young  people  old  enough  to  have  made 
a  position,  but  still  with  sufficient  absence 
from  care  to  make  a  night  of  it. 

"Glad  to  see  you,  Louisa,"  said  Inga  to  a 
young  girl  in  red  with  a  plait  down  her 
back.  "And  you  too,  Ida.  Oh,  how  pretty 
your  dress  is!" 

The  white  house  stood  in  the  middle  of  a 
large  garden,  which  sloped  down  to  the  fjord 
with  fir  wood  on  either  side.  It  was  soon  a 
lively  scene  under  the  green  trees,  where  the 
guests  gathered  in  groups,  talking  and  laugh- 
ing. There  was  a  gentle  breeze  coming  in 
from  the  fjord,  bearing  the  scent  of  seaweed 
and  pines;  and  the  gentle  plash  of  the  waves 
upon  the  shore  mingled  with  the  rustling  of 
the  tree-tops  and  the  merry  voices. 


158  Life 

"Do  you  see  how  stylish  our  ladies  are  be- 
ginning to  be?"  said  Tangen  to  Dr.  Holth, 
who  was  wandering  about  looking  for  Astrid 
Riis.  "And  there's  that  young  engineer  Bang 
pretending  to  be  nothing  but  a  dandy,  while 
without  his  father's  knowledge  he's  made  a 
bold  move  and  bought  a  waterfall  and  formed 
a  company,  and  is  going  to  build  a  factory. 
r  Beware  of  men  nowadays  who  press  their 
V  trousers  carefully;  there's  something  in  them." 
Suddenly  the  artist  started  as  he  saw 
Hjorth  enter  with  his  young  wife.  Since 
the  Easter  outing  he  had  been  violently  at- 
tracted by  this  beautiful  woman,  but  he  might 
just  as  well  have  expected  to  catch  a  salmon 
with  his  hands.  And  yet  it  had  been  an 
exciting  game  when  she  alternately  hid  her- 
self and  enticed  him,  always  gliding  away 
whenever  he  thought  he  had  triumphed.  And 
now  she  was  coming  towards  him  dressed  in 
pink  as  light  as  air,  which  dimly  revealed 
the  curves  of  her  figure.  Her  yellow  straw 
hat  was  worn  a  little  off  her  face,  which, 
framed  by  her  dark  hair,  shone  out  as  from 
a  glory.  Young,  slender  and  yet  of  rounded 


Life  159 

form,  she  moved  forward  with  nods  and  smiles 
to  all  sides. 

"How  do  you  do,  Wilhelmine?"  came  from 
every  quarter.  "How  do  you  do,  Hjorth?" 

As  Tangen  took  her  hand,  he  had  the  feel- 
ing that  it  was  for  the  last  time;  and  when 
she  noticed  that  his  hand  trembled,  she 
dropped  her  eyes. 

"I'm  going  away  very  soon,"  he  said  in  a 
low  voice. 

"For  a  long  time?"  She  also  spoke  in  an 
undertone. 

"For  some  years." 

"Isn't  your  wife  here?"  she  asked  loud 
enough  for  all  to  hear,  as  she  passed  on;  but 
that  she  lowered  her  voice  to  say  something 
to  him  made  his  pulses  beat.  Why?  Did  he 
expect  anything  from  it?  No;  and  yet — 
and  yet 

"It's  nine  o'clock,"  said  Fru  Bang  to  Rei- 
dar.  "We  must  have  supper."  But  he  still 
stood  looking  towards  the  gate  as  if  he  ex- 
pected others. 

"Just  a  moment!"  he  said. 

But  then  the  general  came  up  and  said  he 


160  Life 

was  hungry,  and  again  Reidar  looked  through 
the  trees,  hoping  to  catch  sight  of  a  white 
dress;  but  the  trees  stood  bathed  in  the  rosy 
evening  light,  and  there  was  no  one  to  be 
seen. 

At  last  Inga  came  out  on  the  verandah 
and  clapped  her  hands  to  call  the  guests  to 
supper;  and  one  after  another  the  couples 
passed  up  through  the  garden  and  into  the 
house.  The  tennis-court,  which  lay  behind 
the  red  stable-building,  was  boarded  over  so 
that  they  could  dance  upon  it,  and  a  band 
of  musicians  was  already  on  the  ground  tun- 
ing up. 

In  the  meantime  Astrid  had  passed  a 
strange  day.  In  the  office  she  had  entered 
amounts  in  the  wrong  books,  and  later  when 
she  was  on  her  way  home,  every  one  seemed 
to  her  to  be  in  high  spirits,  ready  to  dance 
out  of  doors.  When  finally  she  entered  her 
little  kitchen,  it  seemed  so  dark,  so  poor,  so 
comfortless,  that  she  sank  into  a  chair  with 
her  hands  in  her  lap. 

But  dinner  had  to  be  prepared,  and  as  she 
stood  over  the  fire,  with  the  smoke  in  her 


Life  161 

face  and  soot  on  her  hands,  she  was  thinking 
of  the  blue  sky  arid  fresh  green  trees  as  a 
thirsty  m#n  thinks  of  water.  And  she 
seemed  to  hear  her  mother  say  to  her:  "Go 
to  the  party,  child!  You've  earned  a  little 
amusement." 

Astrid  opened  the  window  to  the  yard,  but 
instead  of  fresh  air  there  streamed  in  the 
stench  of  backyard  air,  and  she  had  to  shut 
it  again.  "Yes,"  she  asid  to  herself,  "I'll  go! 
I  can't  help  it;  I  must  go!" 

But  at  dinner-time  she  thought  she  had 
never  seen  her  father  look  so  old.  It  seemed 
to  her  that  if  she  went  to  Reidar's  party  this 
evening,  something  extraordinary  would  hap- 
pen. Her  father  was  in  good  spirits  because 
he  had  finished  part  of  his  army-reorganisa- 
tion plan;  and  his  poor  little  hope  of  obtain- 
ing satisfaction  so  touched  her  now  that  her 
food  seemed  to  choke  her.  Could  she  de- 
ceive him  again  this  evening?  She  turned 
her  eyes  to  the  sitting-room  and  everything 
in  it  seemed  to  say:  "Of  course  you  can  go 
if  you  like  and  become  the  wife  of  a  rich  mer- 


162  Life 

chant,  but  we — everything  in  here — we  won't 
desert  your  father." 

"You're  not  eating,  child,"  said  the  cap- 
tain. 

"It's  so  hot  in  here,"  she  said. 

Later  in  the  afternoon  she  lay  down  for  a 
little  while  on  her  bed.  The  picture  on  the 
wall  seemed  to  talk  and  talk,  and  she  drew 
the  sheet  over  her  face  so  as  to  think  of 
something  else.  But  it  was  really  so  hot,  and 
the  flies  were  so  disagreeable,  and  she  felt  in 
her  body  a  thirst  for  fresh  air  and  happy 
movement,  laughter  and  a  high,  blue  sky. 
Oh,  if  she  only  could! 

Suddenly  she  got  up,  and  a  little  while 
after  went  quietly  in  to  the  old  man,  who  was 
once  more  sitting  at  his  work. 

"Read  me  something,"  she  said  with  the 
look  of  one  who  is  paying  dearly  for  some- 
thing. The  captain  polished  his  glasses,  and 
adjusted  them  upon  his  red  nose,  and  began 
to  read  from  the  written  sheets.  It  took  a 
long  time,  and  the  room  was  very  close. 
When  at  last  he  ended,  she  had  heard  it  all 
and  began  to  discuss  it  with  him.  At  last  she 


Life  163 

mentioned  the  general.  How  this  would 
make  him  smart  when  it  came  out.  After 
that  she  spoke  ill  of  Reidar,  and  Inga,  a 
daughter  of  the  general,  whom  she  had  now 
also  met.  It  was  a  terrible  family!  Astrid 
racked  her  brains  to  think  of  something  more 
to  say;  she  would  spare  nothing  in  order  to 
pay  dearly  for  this  evening. 

When  she  rose,  she  looked  about  her  with 
a  feeling  that  something  was  over  now. 

After  supper  she  said  she  would  go  for  a 
walk.  "That's  right!"  said  her  father, 
charmed  and  happy  over  all  the  pleasure  she 
had  given  him  that  day.  "Do  go  for  a  walk, 
child!" 

She  put  on  her  white  dress,  and  fastened 
her  locket  round  her  neck.  She  would  not 
hide  it  from  him  today. 

As  she  stood  looking  at  herself  in  the  mir- 
ror, the  thought  of  this  dress  filled  her  with 
terror.  She  had  washed  stairs  in  order  to  be 
able  to  afford  it,  and  while  she  sewed  at  it, 
she  had  been  working  herself  stitch  by  stitch 
away  from  her  father  and  over  to — well,  to 
whom?  And  without  knowing  what  she  did, 


164  Life 

she  examined  all  the  folds  of  the  dress,  as  if 
she  expected  to  find  an  ugly  stain. 

In  her  white  hat,  which  she  had  made  her- 
self out  of  plaited  paper,  and  with  mittens 
drawn  up  over  her  red  arms,  she  hurried 
through  the  town;  and  when  she  reached  the 
quays  where  the  wide  heavens,  the  fjord  and 
the  wooded  hills  were  spread  out  before  her, 
she  felt  as  if  she  must  stretch  out  her  arms 
and  cry  aloud.  The  fjord  was  swarming 
with  little  steamers  hurring  in  to  and  out 
from  the  quays;  the  sun  had  gone  down,  and 
the  bonfires  were  lighted,  their  yellow  flames 
burning  brightly  along  both  shores,  out  on 
the  islands,  and  up  among  the  blue  hills. 

When  she  had  crossed  the  bay  on  the 
steamer  and  was  making  her  way  through  the 
wood,  her  nostrils  quivered  and  she  drew  deep 
breaths  of  the  warm  pin-scented  air,  while  her 
movements  resembled  those  of  a  young  deer. 
She  passed  a  number  of  people  seated  among 
the  trees,  riders,  open-air  restaurants,  and 
house  after  house;  but  she  asked  her  way,  and 
hastened  on  in  the  direction  indicated.  The 
pine-needles  under  her  feet  were  warm  and 


Life  165 

crackled  gaily,  and  all  was  fresh  and  bright, 
and  home  nothing  but  a  dream.  She  smelt 
the  salt  from  the  sea  and  stopped  to  drink  it 
in.  Where  was  she  going?  What  was  she 
doing?  Well,  she  must  go  on. 

"There  she  is!"  cried  Inga,  coming  out 
flushed  with  dancing.  "Who?"  asked  Reidar, 
who  had  also  just  finished  a  dance.  "Look  for 
yourself  1" 

Yes,  there  she  was,  stealing  along  cau- 
tiously, as  if  ready  at  any  moment  to  turn  and 
fly,  the  red  light  through  the  trees  flecking  her 
white  dress  and  hat,  her  face  flushed  with 
warmth  or  shyness;  but  she  drew  nearer  and 
nearer. 

"Is  that  you  at  last,  you  bad  person!"  cried 
Inga,  running  towards  her. 

After  supper  Reidar's  guests  had  stood  for 
some  time  in  groups  round  the  bonfire  on  the 
beach,  and  dancing  had  only  just  begun;  and 
Paul  Tangen  now  led  Fru  Hjorth  on  to  the 
floor  to  dance  the  first  waltz. 

"You  said  you  were  going  away,"  she  whis- 
pered, as  they  swung  round  in  the  merry 
throng. 


166  Life 

"It's  necessary  unfortunately." 

"Why?" 

"Don't  ask  me." 

She  understood  that  some  misfortune  was 
at  the  bottom  of  it.  And  it  seemed  to  him  that 
she  all  at  once  leaned  more  heavily  on  his  arm, 
as  she  bent  back  and  gathered  up  her  dress  in 
one  hand.  Paul  Tangen  never  forgot  that 
dance.  She  seemed  in  farewell  to  bpeathe  out 
the  whole  of  her  youth  over  him;  above  them 
was  the  blue  sky,  and  he  drank  in  the  perfume 
of  her  hair  with  the  scent  of  the  pines,  while 
the  rustle  of  her  pink  dress  mingled  with  the 
plash  of  the  waves.  He  was  swept  away  by 
it  all  in  a  feeling  of  happiness  as  great  as  if 
it  were  the  young  summer  itself  he  held  in  his 
embrace. 

"How  can  you  close  your  eyes  when  there 
is  such  a  glorious  sky  above  you?"  he  said. 

She  answered  with  a  little  glance  through 
her  long  eyelashes.  "Do  you  think  my  sky  is 
any  less  beautiful  than  yours?" 

"Then  I'll  see  it  too,"  he  said  and  closed  his 
eyes.  And  it  seemed  to  him  that  they  melted 
together  into  a  single  warm  wave,  borne  along 


Life  167 

by  the  long,  divine  rhythm  which  is  both  pain 
and  pleasure,  which  trembles  in  everything 
that  lives  and  dies,  from  the  worm  to  the  plan- 
ets, which  is  the  mystery  of  light  and  sound, 
and  perhaps  the  origin  of  the  universe. 

"Shall  we  stop?    Are  you  tired?" 

"No,  no!"  she  whispered. 

The  big  tennis-ground  was  one  whirl  of 
light  dresses  and  tall  men,  and  warm,  breath- 
less couples  were  continually  resorting  to  the 
long  table  by  the  garden  fence,  where  young 
girls  in  white  caps  stood  and  served  refresh- 
ments. 

The  general  had  of  course  danced  until  he 
was  quite  warm,  and  as  he  stood  by  the  table 
drinking  soda  water,  the  arctic  explorer  came 
up  with  Fru  Tangen  to  look  for  a  glass. 

"Well,  sir,"  said  the  general,  "I  suppose 
you've  seen  polar  bears  dancing  at  the  north 
pole?" 

"Not  polar  bears,"  said  the  weatherbeaten 
man  with  a  smile,  "but  seals.  They  now  and 
then  have  a  wedding  at  the  edge  of  the  ice, 
and  tumble  about  and  yell  like  drunken  peas- 
ants in  olden  days." 


168  Life 

The  general  turned  to  watch  Reidar,  who 
was  leading  out  Astrid  Riis  to  dance.  They 
swung  in  among  the  others,  she  hanging  yield- 
ingly upon  his  arm,  as  though  she  had  drifted 
here  against  her  will,  and  was  now  being  swept 
away  in  a  joy  so  sinful  that  she  had  to  hide 
her  face. 

Reider  would  have  been  perfectly  happy 
now  that  she  was  here  at  last,  if  he  had  not 
been  trembling  with  anxiety  over  what  was 
soon  to  happen.  He  was  very  careful  that 
she  should  get  no  bumps  in  the  crush,  and  in 

a  little  while  began  in  a  whisper :    "Why 

But  she  instantly  pressed  his  hand  and  said: 
"Don't  ask!"  It  seemed  to  him  that  in  saying 
this  she  had  put  her  arms  round  his  neck,  and 
he  smiled  down  into  her  face  so  kindly  that  she 
smiled  back  at  him.  The  soft  rhythm  of  the 
dance  felt  like  something  motherly  that  took 
them  into  its  embrace  to  prevent  anything 
fateful  happening  to  them  yet. 

Flushed  with  warmth,  the  couples  began  to 
take  little  walks  through  the  garden,  fanning 
their  hot  faces  with  fans  and  handkerchiefs, 
while  laughter  and  happy  talk  sounded  out  in 


Life  169 

the  pale  blue  night.  Down  on  the  beach,  the 
tar-barrel  still  sent  up  smoke  and  fire  as  if  in 
greeting  to  its  comrades  flaming  far,  far  off; 
and  the  gentle  breeze  on  the  fjord  had  dropped 
again,  so  that  the  white-sailed  yachts  seemed 
to  stand  up  out  of  the  deep  sky  of  the  sea  it- 
self. 

When  Paul  Tangen  had  given  up  Fru 
Hjorth  to  another  partner,  he  had  no  desire 
to  dance  any  more.  He  wandered  alone  along 
the  shore  and  looked  across  at  the  sleeping 
town  on  the  other  side  of  the  bay,  where  tow- 
ers and  church-spires  rose  out  of  the  copper- 
hued  haze. 

"It'll  have  to  be  work  after  this,"  he  said  to 
Himself.  "And  what  does  it  matter?  And 
poverty  and  toil  for  a  few  miserable  shillings, 
and  doing  without  things — but  what  does  that 
matter  either?" 

"Oh,  is  that  you?"  said  a  voice,  and  his 
brother  came  up  and  joined  him.  "Isn't  it 
splendid  here?  Do  you  know  what  I've 
thought  of?"  And  Paul  was  told  about  a  mod- 
ern temple,  its  roof  borne  up  by  columns  which 
were  to  be  statues  of  great  men.  In  its  bright 


170  Life 

halls  youth  should  hold  festival,  generation  af- 
ter generation,  while  the  nation's  famous  men, 
one  after  another,  were  immortalised  as  pil- 
lars of  the  temple  of  youth. 

"Be  quiet!"  said  Paul.  "You're  in  love, 
you  know." 

"Don't  you  ever  think  how  sad  it  is  that 
one  can't  keep  any  part  of  an  evening  like 
this?  Just  think  that  all  this  symphony  of 
colour,  rhythm  and  happy  cries  is  over  and 
gone  past  recall  tomorrow!"  And  the  young 
man's  chin  was  pushed  out  in  a  melancholy 
smile. 

/  "Life  is  extravagant  and  can  afford  to  be 
wasteful,  my  friend."  And  at  that  moment 
catching  sight  of  his  wife,  he  hastened  up  to 
her  and  asked  for  a  dance. 

"Fancy!"  she  said.  "Have  you  really  recol- 
lected my  existence?" 

"Oh,  don't  suppose  I  haven't  seen  how 
you've  been  making  up  to  the  arctic  explorer 
this  evening!  You've  made  me  quite  jealous!" 

And  the  frivolous  man  danced  with  this 
woman,  who  was  the  only  one  he  would  care 
to  have  married,  and  to  whom  he  always  re- 


Life  171 

turned.  He  would  soon  have  to  tell  her  of 
the  trouble  that  had  come  upon  them,  that  they 
would  have  to  give  up  all  the  pretty  things 
they  had  got  together,  and  become  poor  people 
in  an  attic  again. 

"How  beautiful  you  are  this  evening!"  he 
whispered  with  a  sad  smile.  "Do  you  remem- 
ber it  was  an  evening  like  this  when  we  got 
engaged?" 

She  raised  her  beautiful  brown  eyes  to  him, 
and  looked  pleased;  and  the  dance  seemed  to 
sweep  away  the  intervening  years  and  they 
were  engaged  afresh. 

When  Reidar  finished  his  dance  with  Astrid. 
he  meant  to  take  her  a  little  way  off,  and  she 
understood  this  and  looked  about  for  help.  It 
came  in  the  shape  of  the  general  asking  for  a 
dance,  and  Reidar  found  himself  standing 
alone  once  more. 

And  Astrid  was  dancing  with  her  father's 
deadly  enemy!  His  arm  was  about  her  waist, 
and  he  was  saying  nice  things  to  her  about 
her  dress.  She  was  glad  she  had  escaped  hav- 
ing to  go  with  Reidar,  for  goodness  knows 


172  Life 

what  would  have  happened  if  she  had  done; 
but  was  this  any  better? 

"You  dance  just  as  delightfully  as  your 
mother,"  said  the  general,  charmed.  "She  was 
a  regular  open-air  creature.  A  poet  once 
called  her  a  daughter  of  the  sun  and  the  wind." 

"Did  you  know  my  mother?" 

His  answer,  after  a  short  pause,  "Yes,  in- 
deed I  did,"  was  said  in  such  a  manner  that  it 
sent  a  cold  shiver  down  her  back.  What  had 
there  been  between  the  general  and  her  moth- 
er? She  had  to  go  on  dancing,  but  would  have 
liked  to  tear  herself  away  and  fly. 

When  at  last  they  left  the  floor,  Holth  was 
standing  by  and  fortunately  asked^  her  for  a 
dance;  but  before  they  entered  the  whirl,  she 
whispered:  "Will  you  see  me  home?  Bui 
don't  tell  any  one." 

Reidar  had  wandered  excitedly  up  and  down 
in  the  garden,  waiting  for  Astrid  to  be  disen- 
gaged; but  as  he  once  more  approached  the 
dancing-ground,  Fru  Ramm  came  up  to  him 
and  said:  "Froken  Riis  asked  me  to  say  good- 
by  to  you.  She  had  to  go  home  to  her  father, 
and  Holth  went  with  her." 


Life  173 

"What!  Oh  well,  that's  capital!"  said  Rei- 
3ar,  bursting  into  a  laugh.  ^ 

A  little  later  some  one  shouted  "Hurrah!" 
as  large  baskets  of  champagne  were  seen  be- 
ing carried  from  the  verandah  over  to  the  long 
table  under-  the  trees. 

"Lookf  Look!"  came  from  all  sides.  "Hur- 
rah! Hurrah!" 

And  at  the  same  time  a  monster  flame 
sprang  up  from  the  beach,  as  a  match  was  put 
to  the  wood-stack  over  which  paraffin  had  been 
poured.  A  couple  who  had  been  sitting  be- 
hind a  bush  down  there,  rushed  out  as  if  the 
unexpetced  light  had  caught  them  doing  some- 
thing wrong.  The  huge  bonfire  threatened  to 
destroy  the  fir-trees  close  by,  which  it  dyed 
red;  and  showers  of  sparks  were  thrown  up 
higher  than  the  flames  before  they  fell.  The 
whole  garden  "became  red,  and  faces  and 
dresses ;  the  hou§e  became  red,  and  smoke  and 
flame  were  mirrored  in  the  smooth  water  of  the 
fjord. 

There  was  a  report  at  the  table,  and  Reidar 
suddenly  got  upon  a  bench  with  a  foaming 
glass  held  above  his  red  head,  and  made  a 


174  Life 

speech  in  honour  of  pleasure.  White  arms 
raised  glasses,  healths  were  drunk,  and  cheers 
given.  It  was  the  signal  for  a  regular  out- 
break of  jollity.  The  rotund  industrial  king 
stood  on  a  table  in  the  centre  of  a  group  of 
ladies,  and  proposed  the  health  of  their  host. 
Then  it  was  the  general  himself  who  managed 
to  get  up  on  to  something  or  other  to  extol 
woman;  and  before  he  knew  where  he  was,  he 
was  seized  by  young  girls  and  carried  in  tri- 
umph round  the  ground. 

There  was  a  continual  popping  of  corks,  and 
the  garden  was  soon  a  scene  of  wild  confusion. 
People  danced  wherever  they  could,  without 
looking  what  they  were  trampling  upon; 
women  fled  away  screaming,  followed  by  their 
partners;  couples  strayed  along  the  shore, 
looking  into  one  another's  eyes  and  whisper- 
ing; and  the  great  tall  forester,  the  general's 
eldest  son,  suddenly  appeared  with  his  wife 
struggling  in  his  arms,  and  said  he  was  going 
to  throw  her  into  the  water  because  she  was 
unfaithful. 

In  a  few  minutes  the  stableman,  by  his  mas- 
ter's order,  had  mowed  down  all  the  flowers 


Life  175 

in  the  beds,  and  Reidar  went  about  with  a  huge 
basket  scattering  red,  yellow  and  white  flow- 
ers over  women  and  men,  crying:  "Adorn 
yourselves!  Adorn  yourselves!" 

"Dear  me,  is  that  why  you've  been  garden- 
ing so  industriously  this  summer,"  said  Fru 
Ramm. 

"Yes,"  answered  Reidar,  with  a  forced 
laugh.  "Yes,  of  course,  that  was  why.  Here, 
good  people,  adorn  yourselves!  And  why 
aren't  you  drinking?" 

The  arctic  explorer  and  Harald  Bang  came 
up  to  him  arm  in  arm.  "He  doesn't  think  I 
can  swim  out  to  that  little  island  there!"  said 
Harald. 

"Well,  then,  you  can  show  him  you  can  at 
once,"  said  Reidar.  "I  could  do  it  and  empty 
a  bottle  on  the  way." 

"So  could  I,"  said  Paul  Tangen,  who  came 
up  just  then. 

The  bonfire  had  now  burnt  low,  and  was 
nothing  but  ashes  and  smoke;  but  from  be- 
hind the  hills  in  the  east  rose  flames  from  the 
dawning  day. 

The  general  went  home,  but  the  young  peo- 


176  Life 

pie  were  invited  to  breakfast  out  on  the  little 
island;  and  soon  four  boats  put  out  from  the 
land,  adorned  with  green  branches,  and  with 
the  band  in  the  first.  Reidar,  Harald,  Paul 
Tangen  and  the  arctic  explorer  were  to  follow 
immediately. 

The  red  fjord  was  as  smooth  as  glass.  A 
couple  of  yachts  lay  with  flapping  sails  as  if 
they  slept,  and  as  the  merry  party  glided  past 
a  loaded  sloop,  they  noticed  the  fresh  smell  of 
newly-baked  bread. 

"Oh  look!    Look!" 

It  was  four  swimmers  who  shot  out  from 
a  promontory  a  little  way  from  Reidar's  house, 
and  headed  with  even  strokes  for  the  island. 

"Goodness!"  cried  the  Danish  prima  donna. 
"Who  are  those  crazy  people?  Fancy  if  they 
were  to  drown !" 

It  was  easy  to  see  who  they  were,  and  the 
band  immediately  struck  up.  The  boats  drew 
nearer  so  as  to  be  at  hand  if  required;  and 
suddenly  the  sun  shot  up,  casting  its  ruddy 
light  upon  the  four  heads  rising  out  of  the 
water. 

"Hullo!"  cried  Reidar.     "We're  going  to 


Life  177 

drink  to  your  Health !"  And  the  bodies  of  four 
men  came  into  view  as  they  stood  treading 
water  with  the  sun  shining  red  upon  their  wet 
skin.  "Your  health!"  And  Reidar  held  up  a 
bottle  of  champagne,  made  the  cork  fly,  and 
put  it  to  his  mouth,  after  which  it  went  the 
round  of  the  others. 

"Bravo!  Bravo!"  shouted  the  rest  of  the 
party,  and  then  the  green-garlanded  boats 
passed  on  across  the  smooth  fjord  to  the  ac- 
companiment of  music  and  laughter. 

At  last  they  landed  upon  the  little  island, 
the  swimmers  in  a  secluded  spot,  where  Henrik 
Tangen  brought  them  their  clothes,  which  had 
been  brought  in  one  of  the  boats.  A  fire  was 
lighted,  and  soon  they  were  all  lying  on  the 
grass  drinking  freshly-made  coffee,  while  the 
sun  rose  higher  and  higher,  and  the  life  on  the 
fjord  began  to  awake. 

A  couple  of  hours  later  Reidar  sat  alone 
upon  his  verandah,  looking  idly  at  the  garden, 
which  was  overstrewn  with  bottles  and  broken 
glass,  and  where  the  half-withered  flowers  lay 
trampled  down  upon  the  paths  and  grass- 
plots. 


178  Life 

For  a  moment  he  covered  his  face  with  his 
hands  and  felt  inclined  to  weep — or  laugh 
scornfully — or  sleep — or  go  far  away ;  but  sud- 
denly he  raised  his  head  defiantly.  "Not  for 
the  world!"  he  said  aloud.  "I'll  show  you  that 
I'm  the  strongest!" 

Then  he  rose,  and  instead  of  going  to  bed, 
he  changed  his  clothes  and  went  through  some 
gymnastic  exercises;  and  a  moment  later  he 
was  darting  across  the  red  bay  to  town  in  his 
white  motor-boat,  steering  with  one  hand  and 
trying  to  peel  an  orange  with  the  other.  The 
others  might  sleep  if  they  liked.  He  was  go- 
ing to  the  office  to  work.  Was  he  the  master 
of  his  own  destiny  or  not? 


IX 


A  COUPLE  of  days  later,  Jorgen  Holth  was 
on  his  homeward  way  in  such  good  spirits  that 
he  could  not  help  whistling.  He  had  once 
more,  as  if  by  chance,  met  Astrid  Riis;  and 
when  he  boldly  suggested  a  walk  to  Holmen- 
kollen  tomorrow  evening,  she  had  actually  an- 
swered yes. 

"Ha-ha!"  he  laughed  to  himself.  "I'm  go- 
ing to  hold  a  tryst  at  last!" 

He  was  toiling  hard  at  examination-papers 
just  now,  and  at  home,  in  the  heat,  it  was 
stuffier  than  ever.  The  children  worried  him 
to  let  them  go  into  the  country,  and  Selma's 
eyes  pleaded  for  it  too;  and  he  had  not  got  a 
step  farther  with  the  two  books  he  was  writ- 
ing. Was  courage  lacking?  Was  it  too  late? 
No,  but  when  his  duties  were  over  in  the  after- 
noon, and  he  sat  down  at  his  writing-table,  his 
head  was  weary  and  his  thoughts  were  sad. 
He  would  sit  with  his  chin  resting  upon  his 
hand,  looking  straight  before  him,  and  before 

179 


180  Life 

he  was  aware  of  it  he  was  dreaming  of  a 
golden-haired  girl.  For  him  she  represented 
the  youth  that  he  was  never  to  experience,  but 
of  which  he  nevertheless  tried  every  day  to  ob- 
tain a  glimpse.  And  now  tomorrow  I 

It  was  the  first  time  he  had  ever  come  home 
with  a  joy  that  he  was  obliged  to  conceal.  At 
dinner  Selma  asked:  "Has  anything  hap- 
pened, Jorgen?"  "No,  why?"  "You  look  so 
pleased."  Selma,  of  course,  was  always  ex- 
pecting that  little  miracle  to  happen — the  ap- 
pointment to  a  headmastership  or  professor- 
ship. Some  day,  surely,  good  fortune  must 
knock  at  their  door  too! 

Next  morning  she  said  again:  "Were  you 
ill  in  the  night,  Jorgen?" 

"111?     I?" 

"You  were  so  restless,  and  got  up  several 
times  to  look  out  of  the  window." 

This  was  true.  He  had  spent  the  night  in  a 
childish  anxiety  lest  it  should  rain,  for  then 
she  would  not  meet  him,  he  supposed. 

It  was  a  long  day  at  school,  and  still  longer 
at  home.  How  endless  an  hour  seems  when 
one  wants  it  to  pass !  How  long  dinner  takes 


Life  181 

when  the  children  make  messes  and  dawdle 
and  can  never  be  done  1  But  he  kept  down  his 
irritability,  and  played  with  little  Susanna,  and 
gave  the  eldest  boy  good  advice  about  his  ex- 
amination the  following  day;  he  even  listened 
patiently  to  Selma's  tale  of  domestic  troubles. 
He  could  so  well  afford  it  now.  In  an  hour — 
in  half-an-hour ! 

At  last  he  said  he  had  to  go  to  a  school- 
festival,  and  therefore  had  to  dress.  But  jusf 
as  he  was  going,  he  stopped  involuntarily  for 
a  moment,  and  looked  round  the  rooms  where 
Selma  and  he  had  together  gone  through  so 
much,  both  evil  and  good.  "Don't  go!"  a 
voice  within  him  said.  Selma  was  sitting 
patching  a  little  pair  of  trousers,  and  tired  and 
faded  Jhough  she  was,  seemed  happy  today, 
because  he  had  been  so  kind.  "Don't  go!" 
But  he  went.  Only  this  once !  Out  in  the  pas- 
sage, little  Susanna  came  to  him  and  wanted 
to  go  too,  and  in  her  eagerness  clasped  her  arms 
round  his  knees  and  let  herself  be  dragged 
along.  He  never  forgot  how  he  had  to  unclasp 
her  little  hands  by  force,  nor  her  cry  as  he 
went  down  the  stairs.  What  was  he  doing? 


182  Life 

And  yet  the  town  had  never  seemed  so  beau- 
tiful to  him  before.  The  people  that  passed 
had  happy  faces,  and  he  felt  as  if  at  last,  after 
many  years'  injustice,  he  was  going  to  receive 
restitution. 

He  sat  on  a  bench  at  Majorstuen  and 
waited.  He  prepared  something  bright  and 
pretty  to  say  to  the  young  girl,  and  it  was  like 
getting  rid  of  book-dust  and  domestic  trou- 
bles, and  adorning  himself  with  young,  fresh 
colours.  Would  she  not  soon  be  coming. 

A  barrister  and  a  doctor,  both  socialists, 
passed  him,  and  when  they  saw  him  and  nod- 
ded to  him,  he  was  quite  embarrassed.  "Well, 
why  weren't  you  too  at  the  labour  festival  at 
Kampen?"  asked  the  doctor,  stopping  a  mo- 
ment. 

"Examination  papers,  my  friend!"  an- 
swered Holth,  waving  them  away  without 
knowing  he  did  it.  The  two  gentlemen 
stepped  into  the  tram  and  disappeared. 

Was  she  not  coming?  Even  this  anxiety 
was  something  he  positively  enjoyed.  It  was 
like  a  breath  from  earlier  years.  It  was  not 
social  sorrow,  or  pecuniary  troubles,  or  jeal- 


Life  183 

ousy  of  colleagues,  but  something  brighter 
and  purer.  Now  he  thought  he  saw  her,  but 
was  disappointed;  then  he  discovered  far 
down  the  street  a  hat  like  hers,  but  again  it 
was  some  one  else's.  Then  all  at  once  she  was 
standing  in  front  of  him,  red  and  breathless 
with  hurrying. 

"Have  you  been  waiting?  I  couldn't  come 
before." 

She  was  in  a  light  cotton  frock,  with  a 
leather  belt  about  her  waist,  and  upon  her 
golden  hair  the  white  hat  of  plaited  paper. 
They  decided  to  take  the  tram  to  Slemdal,  and 
walk  on  from  there.  In  the  tram  they  talked 
about  the  party  on  Bygdo,  which  had  been 
such  fun. 

When  they  left  the  tram,  they  went  with 
several  other  people  up  a  road  towards  the 
wood,  and  before  long  were  alone.  White  and 
brown  houses  were  just  visible  through  the 
green  trees  and  firs  on  both  sides,  the  tall 
trunks  of  the  fir-trees  showed  red  in  the  sun- 
light, and  birds  flew  backwards  and  forwards 
above  their  heads. 

"I'm  looking  forward  to  hearing  about  your 


184  Life 

work,"  she  said.  "Or  perhaps  you  were  only 
making  fun  of  me  when  you  promised  to  tell 
me  about  it." 

"Yes,  I  only  said  it  in  fun." 

"You  consider  I'm  too  stupid,  of  course." 

"Just  so;  and  conceited." 

"Thank  you!" 

They  both  laughed;  the  sentences  were  like 
chirps.  What  good  friends  they  were  already! 
It  happened  that  they  turned  into  a  path 
where  they  were  obliged  to  walk  closer  to- 
gether, and  soon  the  trees  hung  so  low  over 
their  heads  that  they  often  had  to  stoop. 

"I  can't  be  out  very  long,"  said  Astrid. 
"Father's  not  very  well  just  now." 

"Why,  we've  only  just  started!" 

"How  she  looks  at  me!"  he  thought,  remem- 
bering his  grey  hair  and  ageing  face.  He 
must  make  her  see  something  younger  and 
more  beautiful  in  him.  What  he  was  writing? 
A  book  on  the  divine  Csesar  Borgia,  and  he 
had  also  planned  one  on  Dante.  And  just 
listen  how  the  pope's  son,  the  beautiful  blood- 
hound, really  took  after  the  poet  of  heaven 


Life  185 

and  hell!  His  words  came  so  easily,  his  voice 
was  full  and  warm. 

Was  it  not  a  splendid  walk?  Every  time 
he  could  tell  her  about  something  beautiful,  it 
seemed  as  If  a  buried  gem  were  dug  out  of  his 
memory,  and  allowed  to  sparkle  in  the  light 
again.  And  he  gave  it  to  her,  wishing  it  had 
all  been  still  more  beautiful.  Later  on  they 
sat  down  on  the  heather  and  while  she,  with 
bent  head,  drew  a  stalk  of  grass  through  her 
fingers,  he  lay  back  with  his  hands  behind  his 
head,  and  told  her  about  Heloi'se  and  Abelard. 
High  above  the  tree-tops  rose  the  blue  heaven, 
and  he  lay  there  in  the  wood  with  a  young  girl 
sitting  beside  him,  and  was  a  poet  of  twenty 
again. 

When  at  last  they  stood  taking  leave  of  one 
another  down  in  the  town,  he  pressed  her  hand 
respectfully.  "Thank  you  for  my  first  sum- 
mer evening,"  he  said  with  a  melancholy  smile. 
"I'm  wondering  whether  you'll  make  me  a 
present  of  one  more."  He  watched  her  lips 
anxiously. 

She  answered  as  if  to  herself:    "I've  no  one 


186  Life 

else  to  go  with  now.  Father  always  wants  to 
go  alone?' 

"But  your  friends,  Froken  Bang  and  Rei- 
dar  and ?" 

"Good  night!"  she  said  hurriedly,  and  has- 
tened away. 

Thus  began  a  series  of  excursions  in  the 
neighbourhood  of  the  town,  which  filled 
Holth's  days  with  the  brightest  expectations. 
He  had  either  been  promised  a  new  excursion 
to  which  he  could  look  forward,  or  he  expected 
to  meet  her,  as  if  by  chance,  at  dinner-time, 
and  then  propose  another.  His  step  grew 
brisk,  his  appetite  good,  and  all  difficulties 
seemed  surmountable.  Now  he  went  about 
whistling,  whether  he  was  going  into  the  town 
or  home. 

And  he  never  noticed  that  the  young  girl 
was  always  like  one  walking  in  her  sleep,  and 
that  she  often  interrupted  with  questions  that 
had  nothing  whatever  to  do  with  the  subject 
on  which  he  was  discoursing. 


EVERY  time  Astrid  left  home,  she  had  a 
vague  feeling  that  Holth  could  give  her  good 
advice ;  but  no  sooner  was  she  beside  him  than 
she  felt  it  impossible.  To  no  one  in  the  world, 
not  even  to  him,  could  she  venture  to  speak 
about  this. 

She  tried  to  laugh  at  the  suspicion  that  had 
taken  root  within  Iier  when  she  was  dancing 
with  the  general;  but  it  fitted  in  so  much  too 
well  with  various  insinuations  of  her  father, 
and  she  now  always  had  it  in  her  mind. 

If  there  were  any  truth  in  it,  it  would  make 
the  gulf  between  herself  and  Reidar  doubly 
deep.  It  was  bad  enough  that  the  general  had 
ruined  her  father's  career;  but  now  after  this 
to  go  up  to  the  old  man  and  say,  "I  love  that 
man's  son?  Never!  She  could  never  do  it!" 

Her  mother's  portrait  still  hung  in  her 
room,  and  at  one  moment  she  felt  she  would 
like  to  turn  its  face  to  the  wall,  at  another  to 
speak  in  her  defense.  This  dead  woman  had 

187 


188  Life 

latterly  seemed  so  near  her;  she  had  become 
her  inward  voice,  upon  which  she  relied.  But 
now  it  was  as  if  she  herself  had  a  share  in  her 
wrong-doing;  and  when,  at  meals,  she  met  her 
father's  red-rimmed  eyes,  she  hung  her  head 
as  if  in  shame. 

Inga  Bang  was  in  earnest  about  coming  as 
maid-servant,  but  Astrid,  when  she  came,  was 
so  obstinate  in  her  refusal  to  allow  it  that  Inga 
was  quite  offended  when  she  went  away. 
"Well,"  thought  Astrid,  "I  suppose  I've 
broken  with  the  whole  family,  so  that's  all 
settled  and  done  with." 

Hot  July  came,  and  people  began  to  go  into 
the  country,  and  the  old  captain  indulged  in  a 
little  holiday.  He  smoked  an  extra  pipe,  sit- 
ting with  a  map  spread  out  before  him,  on 
which  he  followed  the  manoeuvres  as  the  papers 
described  them.  The  pins  he  moved  back- 
wards and  forwards  were  soldiers.  But  sud- 
denly he  would  push  it  all  away,  and  spring 
up,  saying:  "Nonsense!  There's  no  use  in  it 
now!"  And  he  would  pace  the  floor  for  hours. 

Astrid  sat  with  him  during  the  afternoon 
with  her  sewing,  and  beneath  her  downcast 


Life  189 

lids  there  swarmed  a  whole  world  of  fancies. 

"We're  you  fond  of  him,  mother — that  other 
one?  Couldn't  you  help  being  fond  of  him?" 
And  in  her  thoughts  she  went  with  this  mother 
to  an  unlawful  tryst;  but,  strange  to  say,  it 
was  Reidar  who  came. 

A  little  later  she  raised  her  eyes  to  look  at 
her  father  as  he  paced  the  floor.  He  might 
live  for  another  twenty  years  and  she  would 
have  to  go  on  living  the  same  life  as  now,  and 
afterwards  end  it,  she  supposed,  in  the  poor- 
house. 

The  only  brightness  in  her  life  now  was  her 
meeting  with  Holth,  but  often  when  she  left 
home  she  tried  to  imagine  that  it  was  Reidar 
who  was  waiting  for  her.  Her  work  had  to 
be  done  both  at  the  office  and  at  home,  but  she 
lived  in  a  kind  of  twilight  in  which  dream  and 
reality  so  easily  mingled.  In  the  kitchen  she 
often  cheered  herself  with  the  thought,  "I 
shall  meet  him  again  this  evening";  and  she 
would  dress  and  even  put  a  little  powder  on 
her  hands,  and  then  when  she  saw  him — why 
it  was  Holth ! 

After  a  long  absence,  her  brother  one  day 


190  Life 

knocked  at  the  door  when  the  old  man  was 
taking  his  afternoon  nap.  When  the  much 
worn  macintosh  was  removed,  it  appeared  that 
he  had  neither  waistcoat  nor  jacket.  He  was 
unshaven  and  dirty,  wore  some  wrecks  of  shoes 
upon  his  feet,  and  smelt  strongly  of  spirits. 

"Don't  look  at  me  like  that,  confound  you! 
Tjn  in  full  dress  in  my  own  fashion,  and  am 
quite  comfortable.  How  are  all  my  rela- 
tions?" 

"Hush!  Don't  talk  so  loud!  Where  have 
you  been  since  last  you  were  here?"  She  could 
not  take  her  eyes  from  him,  and  involuntarily 
felt  for  something  on  which  to  lean. 

"Shall  I  go?"  he  said  harshly,  when  he  saw 
the  impression  he  made  upon  her. 

"No,  no!  You  shall  have  something  to  eat. 
But  for  goodness  sake  be  careful  that  he 
doesn't  hear  you!" 

The  young  man  swallowed  the  food  greed- 
ily. His  long,  reddish  hair  fell  over  his  fore- 
head, and  there  were  blue  rings  round  his  eyes. 
She  had  given  up  scolding,  beseeching,  and 
helping  him  long  ago. 

"And  the  old  man?    He  must  be  as  com- 


Life  191 

fortable  as  an  egg  in  its  shell,  now  that  I'm 
out  of  sight." 

"He's  been  going  out  so  much  lately,  and 
I  think  that  secretly  he's  looking  for  you." 

"Ha,  ha,  ha!  That's  a  good  one!  But  I 
say,  do  you  still  hold  little  conversations  with 
mother?  What  has  she  been  saying  to  you 
lately?" 

Astrid  turned  her  head  away  and  made  no 
answer. 

"Do  you  believe  the  souls  of  the  dead  some- 
times mix  with  the  living?  How  is  it,  for  in- 
stance, that  in  many  things  you're  so  like 
mother?  Do  you  remember  anything  about 
her?" 

"Oh,  yes  !"^ 

"Do  you  remember  the  last  time  we  were 
with  her  how  she  took  us  by  the  hand  and 
smiled?" 

In  a  little  while  Astrid  answered  in  a  low 
voice:  "That's  just  the  thing  I  remember  best 
about  her." 

"Well,  isn't  it  strange  that  you've  got  ex- 
actly the  same  smile  ?  And  the  way  she  moved 
her  first  finger  when  she  held  out  her  hand  to 


192  Life 

me,  I've  since  seen  in  you.    How  do  you  ex- 
plain that?" 

Astrid  closed  her  eyes  and  smiled,  and  with- 
out knowing  it  moved  the  first  finger  of  one 
hand. 

"Really  and  truly,  old  girl,  do  you  know 
how  mother  ended  her  days?" 

Astrid  opened  her  eyes.    "Now,  Ivar,"  she 
said.    "You  asked  me  that  question  some  time 
ago.    What  is  it  you're  fancying?" 
[     "Fancying!    I  know  it!    But  we  wanted  to 
spare  you!" 

Her  eyes  grew  large,  and  she  involuntarily 
drew  a  step  nearer.  "What!  What  do  you 
mean?" 

Her  brother  put  down  his  spoon  and  wiped 
his  mouth  with  his  hand,  "Well,  as  I'm  going 
on  a  long  journey  and  am  not  going  to  take  a 
return  ticket,  you  may  as  well  hear  it.  You 
know  mother  was  from  Nordland?" 

"Yes,  of  course  I  know  that." 

"A  sea-bird  or  a  bit  of  wind  and  storm  I 
And  then  to  be  chained  to  father!  She  was 
out  sailing  when  she  ought  to  have  been  darn- 
ing stockings,  took  air-baths  in  the  coldest 


Life  193 

north  wind,  and  played  the  flute  when  he 
whimpered  about  his  small  income.  Once  she 
knelt  at  the  window  worshipping  the  sun, 
while  other  people  were  going  to  church." 

Astrid  leaned  against  the  kitchen  dresser 
again  and  closed  her  eyes.  Had  she  heard  this 
before,  or  dreamt  it,  or  had  a  desire  to  do  just 
the  same  herself? 

"How  do  you  know  this?" 

"From  a  bankrupt  merchant  on  the  west 
coast,  wrho  was  once  a  friend  of  hers,  but  after- 
wards got  into  prison.  A  splendid  fellow!" 

"And  didn't  she  die  of  inflammation  of  the 
lungs?"  asked  Astrid,  again  opening  her  eyes. 

"Not  she — except  officially.  There  was  an 
illicit  love  affair,  too.  The  old  'un  managed 
to  stifle  her  soul,  but  there  was  a  little  sinful 
capacity  for  adoration  left.  It  ended  with  her 
trying  to  make  away  with  herself  when  out 
sailing;  but  she  was  dragged  ashore  and  went 
to  bed,  and  it  appeared  that — that  she — that 
she  was  in  the  family  way,  as  people  had  been 
saying  already.  Shall  I  go  on?" 

Without  answering,  Astrid  went  to  the  little 


194  Life 

window;  but  though  she  gazed  out,  it  was  her 
mother  that  she  saw. 

"Well,  good-bye!  Next  time  I  come  I'll  go 
in  and  have  a  farewell  settling-up  with  him. 
And  just  take  care  he  doesn't  ruin  you,  too. 
A  wise  man  in  the  East  End  has  said  that 
certain  people  cast  poisonous  shadows.  Good- 
bye!" 

Astrid  heard  him  go,  but  still  stood  motion- 
less with  closed  eyes.  She  was  living  through 
it  with  her  mother.  And  once  more  it  seemed 
to  her  that  she  had  heard  it  before  or  dreamt 
it,  or  wished  to  experience  it.  She  passed  her 
hand  across  her  forehead  as  if  to  rouse  herself. 
Her  mother's  fate  was  like  a  whirlpool  into 
which  she  was  gazing,  and  she  felt  as  if  she 
must  cling  tightly  to  something  so  as  not  to  be 
carried  away. 

The  next  time  Holth  saw  her  coming,  he 
thought  how  pale  she  looked,  and  said  he  hoped 
she  was  not  working  too  hard  in  this  hot 
weather. 

"I?"  she  said.  "No,  I'm  taking  it  quite 
easy  now.  But  today  I  hunted  up  an  old  flute 
of  mother's,  and  when  father  began  complain- 


Life  195 

ing  about  expenses,  tried  to  play  it.  But,  by 
the  way,  couldn't  you  manage  to  get  a  boat, 
so  that  we  could  go  on  the  water  for  a  change?" 

"Why,  of  course!  That  would  be  easy 
enough.  My  friend  Reidar  Bang  has  several." 

Astrid  involuntarily  stood  still  and  dropped 
her  eyes.  "Oh,  has  he?  But  whatever  you  do, 
don't  tell  him  it's  for  me." 

"No,  of  course  not!  You  may  be  quite  sure 
of  that." 

For  that  matter  it  was  only  delightful  that 
it  should  be  one  of  Reidar's  boats ;  and  the  first 
time  she  was  setting  out  for  a  sail,  she  was  once 
more  almost  sure  it  was  Reidar  who  was  com- 
ing. 

It  was  an  evening  when  there  was  a  windy- 
grey  fjord  and  an  overclouded  sky.  The  sails 
filled,  and  she  lay  in  the  bottom  of  the  boat 
and  felt  she  would  like  to  stroke  its  sides.  It 
rocked  her  so  gently,  and  bore  her  as  if  in  a 
pair  of  strong  arms. 

The  wind  went  down,  and  they  lay  motion- 
less with  flapping  sails.  Holth  began  to  tell 
her  stories  again,  and  she  was  carried  away  by 
the  variety  of  images;  but  nevertheless  she 


196  Life 

said  to  herself;  "I'm  sure  Reidar  is  better  at 
telling  stories."  His  voice  was  just  as  good, 
and  his  hair  was  not  turning  grey.  No,  he 
was  the  hero  coming  through  the  air  on  skis, 
a  form  of  splendid  strength,  having  kinship 
with  the  moorland  and  the  light.  And  yet  it 
was  she  that  he  loved!  Was  he  suffering 
now?  Should  she  write  to  him?  She  laid  her 
cheek  against  the  side  of  the  boat.  There  sat 
Holth,  who  was  something  like  him.  Perhaps 
his  clothes  had  touched  Reidar's  this  very  day. 
She  felt  she  would  like  to  go  and  stroke  his 
sleeves  with  her  hand.  Then  she  cunningly 
turned  the  conversation  as  to  say  something 
bad  about  Reidar;  and  when  Holth  defended 
him,  felt  inclined  to  kiss  him  for  speaking  well 
of  the  man  she  loved. 

It  was  not  easy  to  be  Jorgen  Holth  and  sif 
there  quietly  while  the  girl  lay  so  carelessly  a 
few  feet  from  him;  but  he  had  always  been 
careful,  and  it  was  essential  that  he  should  not 
frighten  her  and  so  upset  everything.  And, 
besides,  what  did  he  want? 

Sometimes  when  he  was  standing  talking  to 
his  wife  at  home,  he  could  not  help  thinking 


Life  197 

of  the  other's  young  face,  and  he  would  invol- 
untarily brighten  up,  so  that  Selma  could  not 
help  smiling,  too.  He  would  kiss  her,  and 
imagine  to  himself  that  it  was  the  girl  he  was 
kissing,  and  the  kiss  would  be  so  passionate 
that  the  no  longer  young  woman  was  quite 
confused.  While  she  sat  sewing  and  patching, 
he  would  come  and  tell  her  something  so  beau- 
tiful that  she  could  remember  nothing  like  it 
since  the  time  they  were  engaged.  But  then, 
too,  he  would  sometimes  spring  up  and  go 
away  ashamed,  saying  to  himself:  "Confound 
you !  You're  making  use  of  your  own  wife  to 
rehearse  upon  for  the  other!" 

Jorgen  Holth  began  to  lead  a  different  life 
now.  He  had  hitherto  been  an  insatiable 
newspaper-reader,  and  now  he  considered  the 
papers  something  quite  unnecessary.  "All 
that  vile  stuff  shut  out  both  the  sun  and  the 
stars  from  me  when  I  was  young,"  he  said  to 
himself.  "And  I've  had  enough  of  it."  On 
the  other  hand  he  became  a  particular  man, 
who  took  a  daily  bath  and  rub-down,  and  al- 
ways wore  clean  linen.  He  felt  as  if  two 


198  Life 

young  eyes  were  always  fixed  upon  him,  and 
they  must  not  be  disappointed. 

One  day  when  he  saw  his  wife  busy  pressing 
his  trousers,  he  was  strangely  moved.  "My 
dear!"  he  said,  putting  his  arm  round  her 
waist.  "You  ought  to  let  the  maid  do  that.'* 

"You  wouldn't  care  to  put  them  on  if  I 
did!" 

He  kissed  her  affectionately,  but  at  the 
same  moment  thought  of  the  far-off  possibility 
that  some  day  his  trousers  might  be  pressed  by 
other  hands. 

In  the  meantime  he  had  managed  to  get 
together  money  to  send  his  wife  and  children 
into  the  country,  and  when  he  put  it  into 
Selma's  hand,  her  eyes  grew  moist  with  grati- 
tude. She  knew  what  it  must  have  cost  him. 
There  was  great  rejoicing,  too,  among  the 
children,  and  that  night  Jorgen  Holth  went  to 
bed  with  the  feelings  of  a  father  worshipped 
by  wife  and  children. 

The  good  spirits  in  which  he  always  came 
home  now  began  to  exert  a  peculiar  influence 
upon  his  wife.  She  was  not  quite  so  tired  as 
before,  she  began  to  keep  the  house  in  better 


Life  199 

order,  she  found  time  to  dress  her  hair,  and 
put  on  a  pretty  blouse  for  dinner,  and  she  even 
now  and  then  sat  down  at  the  piano  and  tried 
to  freshen  up  her  youthful  accomplishments. 

"There's  Jorgen,"  she  said  to  herself, 
"working  and  toiling  from  morning  to  night, 
and  I  do  nothing  to  make  things  comfortable 
for  him." 

He  took  care  not  to  mention  Astrid's  name 
at  home,  but  when  his  thoughts  of  her  grew 
too  real,  he  would  often  put  his  arm  round  his 
wife's  waist,  and  talk  about  the  brightness  and 
wealth  of  life. 

A  few  days  before  they  were  going  into  the 
country,  Fru  Holth  was  sitting  in  the  chil- 
dren's room  after  they  had  gone  to  bed.  She 
was  fighting  a  strange  battle.  She  wanted  to 
present  her  husband  with  a  costly  gift,  because 
he  had  been  so  good  to  her;  but  the  gift  must 
unfortunately  come  from  the  children  as  well 
as  herself.  There  was  complaining  and  whim- 
pering over  little  shattered  childish  dreams, 
but  their  mother  would  not  give  it,  and  grew 
more  and  more  eloquent,  although  tears  were 
running  down  her  own  cheeks,  too. 


200  Life 

The  next  day,  when  Holth  sat  down  at  the 
dinner-table,  little  Susanna  came  up  to  him 
and  gave  him  an  envelope,  saying  as  she  did 
so:  "We  don't  want  to  go  into  the  country, 
father.  You  have  so  little  money,  and  we  can 
go  another  time." 

"What  nonsense  is  this?"  he  said,  lifting  his 
head  and  looking  at  them  all.  Selma's  face 
was  radiant,  and  the  children  smiled  a  little 
shyly,  and  at  last  he  understood.  And  he  re- 
membered how  on  the  way  home  he  had  been 
wondering  how  he  could  .manage  to  make  some 
sort  of  present  to  Astrid  Riis.  And  now  here 
was  the  money!  The  envelope  began  to  trem- 
ble in  his  hand,  and  a  lump  rose  in  his  throat. 
He  kissed  the  little  girl,  and  said  thank  you; 
but  to  himself  he  said:  "Of  course,  they  shall 
go  to  the  country!  I'll  give  the  money  to 
Selma  this  evening." 

That  day  he  was  going  to  meet  Astrid,  and 
before  he  left  home  he  sat  for  a  long  time  in 
his  study  with  his  head  in  his  hands,  engaged 
in  an  inward  struggle.  "I  won't!  I  won't! 
I'll  stay  at  home  with  Selma  and  the  children." 

But  when  the  time  came,  his  feet  carried  him 
away. 


XI 


ASTRID  Rus  stood  upon  the  Pipervik  quay, 
watching  Reidar's  boat  come  sailing  in  from 
Bygdo.  She  knew  perfectly  well  that  it  was 
Holth,  but  today  she  was  too  sad  to  acknowl- 
edge it  to  herself.  No,  it  was,  it  must  be  Rei- 
dar,  and  they  were  going  out  together. 

Sometimes  she  would  question  to  herself  the 
advisability  of  going  about  so  much  with  a 
married  man,  but  always  answered  with  a  cer- 
tain amount  of  bitterness:  "Oh,  of  course  I 
ought  to  give  this  up,  too!"  Her  meetings 
with  him  were  now  her  only  pleasure,  and  had 
lately  acquired  a  new  attraction  from  the  fact 
that  she  could  stand  and  see  Reidar's  boat 
come  in,  and  imagine  it  was  he.  She  did  not 
know  Fru  Holth,  and  by  a  mutual  instinct  she 
was  never  named  between  them. 

The  boat  soon  shot  out  of  the  harbour,  and 
as  usual  she  lay  down  at  the  bottom  and  gazed 
up  into  the  sky.  It  was  so  easy  there  to  fall 

into  the  hazy  condition  in  which  dream  and 

201 


202  Life 

reality  mingled.  At  one  moment  she  was  her 
mother  addressing  her  petitions  to  the  sun,  and 
at  another  was  with  Reidar,  bathing  from  an 
island  out  in  the  sea,  lying  in  the  warm  sand 
and  letting  the  wind  dry  their  skin,  and  then 
creeping  into  white  linen  that  smelt  of  sun  and 
wind,  and  sitting  close  together  with  the  sky 
stretching  in  a  wide  arch  over  sea  and  land. 

Had  she  dreamt  it  last  night?  Would  it 
ever  happen  to  her? 

It  was  at  the  beginning  of  August,  and  the 
fjord,  and  hills  around,  lay  in  a  pale  blue  twi- 
light, while  a  long,  fiery  yellow  bank  of  cloud 
lay  in  the  western  sky.  All  round  them  the 
water  was  churned  up  by  little  steamers  and 
sailing-boats,  and  now  and  then  they  heard 
the  regular  beat  of  a  motor-boat. 

Holth  today  was  shaken  with  strong  emo- 
tion as  he  thought  of  those  he  had  left  at  home ; 
and  at  the  same  time  every  movement  that  the 
girl  made  set  his  nerves  quivering. 

"I  say,"  she  said,  "was  Reidar  Bang  as  stu- 
pid at  school  as  he  is  now?" 

"She's  always  making  hits  at  Reidar," 
thought  Holth.  "I  wonder  what  there's  been 


Life  203 

between  those  two!"  Aloud  he  spoke  in  Rei- 
dar's  defense.  "Stupid?  Reidar?  No,  in- 
deed 1  He's  shown  that  well  enough  since." 
Then  out  came  her  head  from  under  the  sail, 
and  she  looked  at  him  with  a  peculiar  smile. 

The  wind  soon  fell  completely,  and  the  fjord 
became  almost  white  as  the  twilight  deepened. 

"How  beautiful  it  is!"  she  said. 

It  was  a  relief  to  Holth  under  the  pressure 
of  this  unrest  to  begin  to  talk,  and  his  voice 
was  full  of  feeling  and  warmth. 

"Yes,  it  is  beautiful,  and  the  darkness, 
thank  goodness,  doesn't  fall  so  suddenly  as  it 
does  farther  south.  I  love  our  long  northern 
twilight,  when  men  turn  their  faces  towards 
the  sky  and  feel  that  the  day  is  dying.  I  can 
remember,  too,  how  as  a  goatherd  on  the 
mountains,  I  would  sometimes  wake  with  my 
head  against  a  sleeping  cow,  and  see  the  dawn 
breaking  in  the  clouds.  Other  clouds  came  up 
and  blotted  it  out,  but  it  fought  on,  established 
itself  in  another  quarter,  poured  its  creamy 
light  over  more  and  more  clouds  which  tried 
to  shake  it  off,  and  at  last  all  over  the  sky  and 


204  Life 

then  over  the  earth.  It  was  like  a  long,  pain- 
ful birth  that  ended  in  joy." 

He  stopped  and  listened,  and  she  moved  her 
hand  as  if  stroking  the  boat.  Then  he  began 
again : 

"Do  you  know,  Froken  Riis,  that  your  gen- 
eration has  much  clearer  eyes  to  see  what  is 
beautiful  than  mine?  We  grew  up  with  Zola 
and  Ibsen,  and  the  truth  we  were  taught  to 
worship  was  uncomfortable  and  painful.  Now 
it  seems  wonderful  to  me  that  then,  too,  the 
apple-trees  and  lilacs  stood  full  of  blossom 
every  single  year;  but  there  wasn't  a  green 
leaf  to  be  found  in  all  the  abstract  questions 
we  young  people  went  about  with.  It's  only 
lately — yes,  fancy  that  I  should  one  day  wake 
up  and  see  that  the  earth  is  beautiful!"  He 
turned  his  face  towards  the  yellow  strip  in  the 
west  and  drew  a  deep  breath  as  if  to  breathe 
in  something  from  the  sleeping  evening. 

"Have  you  never  gone  in  for  sport — ski-mg 
or  riding?" 

After  a  pause  he  went  on  as  before: 

"Yes,  I  remember  when  I  was  a  tutor  in 
Toten,  I  was  riding  one  evening  through 


Life  205 

wooded  country  on  a  blood-red  horse.  I  can 
still  see  the  fiery  yellow  sky  above  the  black 
hills.  The  corn  was  standing  on  stakes  and 
gave  out  a  moldy  smell.  When  I  dismounted 
to  open  a  gate,  the  damp  wood  made  my  hands 
cold,  and  when  the  gate  swung  to,  the  wooden 
latch  gave  out  a  sodden  sound.  I  passed  a 
lonely  house  whose  windows  were  aflame,  and 
by  the  wayside  stood  a  woman  with  a  sieve 
under  her  arm,  shading  her  eyes  with  her  hand 
as  she  looked  at  me.  At  last  I  came  out  right 
up  on  a  hill,  with  Lake  Mjosen  flaming  red  in 
the  darkness  below  me.  I  remember  the  horse 
stopped  dead  and  reared,  as  if  the  fjord  below 
were  something  bloody.  Out  on  a  large  field 
I  saw  a  ploughman  who  whistled  as  he  unhar- 
nessed his  horses;  and  the  solitary  sound 
seemed  to  me  at  the  moment  to  be  the  song  of 
the  twilight  itself." 

After  a  little  he  added :  "You  must  forgive 
me  for  sitting  here  and  talking  like  this,  but 
just  now  I'm  living  my  youth  over  again,  and 
much  that  then  passed  witEout  leaving  any 
impression  now  appears  to  me  both  rich  and 
beautiful.  That's  what  comes  of  being  in  the 


206  Life 

company  of  a  young  woman.  It  not  only 
awakens  bright  hopes,  but  it  also  gilds  one's 
recollections." 

He  ventured  warily  on  this  advance,  and 
she  once  more  stroked  the  side  of  the  boat  with 
her  hand.  A  large  steamer  with  coloured 
lights  at  the  masthead  was  coming  along — one 
of  those  floating  palaces,  whose  inhabitants 
could  fill  a  town.  The  enormous  shadow  drew 
nearer  with  a  wave  of  form  in  front,  and  then 
glided  past,  high,  heavy,  with  long  rows  of 
lighted  windows,  and  several  decks  covered 
with  summer-clad  travellers,  who  gazed  at  the 
little  vessels  down  on  the  dark  fjord.  Then  it 
had  passed,  and  their  little  boat  was  tossing  up 
and  down  on  the  waves  it  had  raised,  while  the 
steamer  itself  ploughed  its  way  along,  under 
clouds  of  smoke,  in  towards  the  confusion  and 
light  of  the  town.  They  two  in  their  little  boat 
were  as  nothing  compared  to  this  monster,  and 
for  a  moment  they  sat  silently  looking  at  one 
another,  left  alone  together  in  the  dark. 

"There  were  a  great  many  English  there," 
said  Astrid,  as  she  wiped  a  splash  of  water 
from  her  face  with  her  handkerchief. 


Life  207 

"Yes;  and  many  of  them  will  go  home  en- 
gaged." 

A  little  later  they  had  drifted  up  under  an 
island,  where  a  beam  of  light  fell  from  a  house 
on  to  the  water;  and  as  they  sat  there,  a  door 
opened  on  to  a  balcony,  and  a  woman  in  white 
came  out  and  leaning  on  the  balustrade  looked 
out.  At  last  she  caught  sight  of  the  boat,  and 
called  timidly,  in  a  low  voice:  "Is  that  you, 
Herman?"  In  a  little  while  she  said  again: 
"Herman!  Is  that  you?" 

"No!"  said  Holth,  laughing,  and  the  woman 
quickly  withdrew. 

Astrid  laughed,  too,  and  threw  herself  down. 

"I  don't  suppose  it  was  her  husband,"  said 
Holth. 

"Don't  you  think  so?"  For  a  moment  they 
pictured  to  themselves  a  love-story,  and  both 
felt  a  desire  to  draw  closer  together.  It  was 
quite  dark  now,  and  above  the  yellow  strip  in 
the  west  rose  a  steely  sky  overstrewn  with 
stars.  Holth  began  to  talk  again,  but  his 
voice  shook  and  he  steadied  his  elbows  on  his 
knees,  his  chin  in  his  hands. 

"What  a  lot  of  love-making  will  be  going 


208  Life 

on  just  now  all  over  the  country!  I  can  im- 
agine a  young  couple  who  have  stolen  out 
from  a  hydro  in  a  boat,  or  two  who  have  to 
row  across  a  mountain  lake,  but  forget  the 
oars,  or  who  go  along  a  path  from  one  sseter 
to  another  and  think  they  must  rest  a  little. 
That  steamer  now  was  probably  bringing 
young  people  up  to  hotels  and  hunting-cot- 
tages in  the  mountains ;  and  what  do  you  think 
they  will  have  experienced  before  they  go 
back?  Why,  you  may  be  sure  the  little  invisi- 
ble god  will  play  tricks  with  most  of  them, 
either  in  a  wood,  or  on  an  island  far  out,  or  in 
a  solitary  boat  on  the  water.  Then  they'll  sep- 
arate and  perhaps  never  see  one  another  again, 
and  the  remembrance  will  be  a  secret  comfort 
to  them  both  through  the  years  to  come,  even 
when  one  is  the  mother  of  a  family  and  the 
other  a  husband." 

"How  lovely  it  would  be  to  get  into  the 
country  for  a  little!"  sighed  Astrid. 

"Yes,  we  can't  get  away,  either  you  or  I." 
And  for  a  moment  they  were  united  in  a  com- 
mon poverty,  and  there  was  a  long  silence. 
Then  he  began  again. 


Life  209 

"I  often  fancy  I  can  see  the  little  boat  rock- 
ing upon  the  lake  one  moonlight  evening,  in 
which  a  young  man  is  rowing  a  girl  across. 
There  is  a  scent  of  hay  and  ripe  fruit  wafted 
from  the  shore,  and  he  stops  rowing  to  breathe 
in  the  perfume  of  her  dress  and  warm  skin. 
And  what  happens?  Something  happens,  and 
when  they  go  up  the  hill  on  the  other  side,  they 
turn  and  take  one  another  by  the  hand,  look 
back  at  the  lake  and  send  it  a  farewell  kiss. 
In  another  moment  they  are  gone,  and  the 
lake  once  more  lies  like  a  mirror  of  love,  wait- 
ing for  the  next.  The  years  pass,  those  two 
grow  old,  and  they  die  with  the  Little  secret  in 
their  hearts." 

Astrid  closed  her  eyes;  she  could  see  it  all; 
and  her  mother  seemed  to  agree  so  fully. 
"Where  are  we?"  she  asked  in  a  little  while. 

"We're  near  Robinson's  Island,  where  no- 
body lives.  Have  you  seen  it  in  starlight?" 

She  did  not  answer,  but  drew  a  deep  breath 
and  lay  back  again.  The  darkness  seemed  so 
warm  and  heavy;  they  were  far  from  other 
boats,  and  they  had  drifted  up  under  the  little 
uninhabited  island.  Holth  began  to  row  in 


210  Life 

strange  excitement.  Whither?  Towards  the 
Island.  He  only  heard  his  heart  beating,  and 
thought  he  heard  hers,  too.  The  boat  touched 
the  beach  and  he  leaped  out  and  drew  it  up. 
"What  is  it?"  she  asked,  half  dazed.  Without 
answering  he  gave  her  his  hand,  and  she  took 
it  and  sprang  ashore.  As  they  went  up 
through  the  soft  sand,  they  saw  their  shadows 
in  front  of  them  and  involuntarily  turned  and 
stood  facing  the  yellow,  shining  bank  of  cloud 
in  the  west. 

"That's  you  and  I,"  he  said  when  they  went 
on  again,  pointing  to  their  shadows. 

She  tried  to  laugh.  "Yes,  it's  we  two,  but 
it  might  just  as  well  be  others." 

"How  wonderful  it  is  to  be  wandering  here 
with  a  young,  beautiful  woman,  and  that  I — 
I — should  be  doing  it!"  And  he  took  her 
hand. 

She  stood  still  as  if  to  listen.  Was  it  his 
voice,  or  another's?  There  was  love  now  all 
over  the  land,  but  she  would  never  have  a  love- 
tale  of  her  own — she  who  would  end  her  days 
in  the  poorhouse. 

"Let's  sit  down  here,"  he  said,  and  looking 


Life  211 

round  she  sat  down  and  lay  back  in  the  soft 
heather  and  sand,  with  her  hands  behind  her 
head,  looking  up  at  the  stars.  Oh,  if  it  were 
Reidar  who  was  here!  Why,  of  course  it  was 
he !  They  were  out  on  the  island  and  had 
bathed  and  dressed  in  fresh-smelling,  clean 
linen,  and  were  going  to  sit  there  together. 
And  she  closed  her  eyes  and  saw  it  all  so 
vividly. 

She  felt  a  face  approaching  hers,  a  breath, 
heard  a  hymn  of  love,  many  sweet  words.  It 
was — it  must  be  Reidar.  She  could  hear  the 
waves  breaking  on  the  shore  where  they  had 
bathed.  Now  she  felt  kisses,  and  involuntarily 
threw  her  arms  about  his  neck,  holding  him 
tight,  in  fear  that  it  might  not  be  he. 

Another  tourist-steamer  ploughed  its  way 
past  with  all  its  lights,  and  its  waves  washed 
in  foaming  ridges  in  towards  the  island. 

When  Holth,  late  that  night,  approached 
his  house,  he  saw  lights  in  the  windows,  and 
wondered  why  Selma  was  still  up.  He  was 
intoxicated  with  joy.  A  wonder  had  hap- 
pened. Was  it  true?  Had  he  triumphed? 
He? 


212  Life 

On  the  way  upstairs  he  stopped  and  put  his 
hand  to  his  forehead.  As  a  man  of  honour, 
there  was  only  one  thing  for  him  to  do  now. 
What  had  hitherto  appeared  as  a  far-off  rosy 
dream,  had  now  become  a  necessity;  he  must 
obtain  a  divorce.  He  could  not  desert  the 
young  girl;  he  must  marry  her.  It  would  be 
hard  to  tear  himself  away  from  those  in  the 
house  here,  but  he  would  have  to  bear  that. 
He  even  felt  that  he  could  talk  to  Selma  about 
it  now. 

She  came  to  the  door  herself.  "You  are  late, 
poor  thing,"  she  said.  "Have  you  been  lectur- 
ing again,  or  taking  extra  lessons?" 

"Why  are  you  sitting  up  so  late?"  he  asked, 
trying  to  avoid  her  arm,  which  she  put  about 
his  shoulders. 

"Oh,  it's  because  of  Susanna,  who  was  taken 
suddenly  ill.  But  don't  you  trouble  about  it. 
Go  to  bed,  and  I'll  sit  up  alone." 

"What  do  you  say?"  And  he  hurried  into 
the  nursery.  A  night  light  burnt  beside  the 
low  bed.  The  other  children  were  asleep,  but 
little  Susanna  lay  flushed  and  hot,  turning 
over  restlessly. 


Life  213 

"D'ink!"  she  murmured.    "D'ink,  mother!" 

"Yes,  you  shall  have  a  drink  directly."  And 
she  brought  the  child  a  fresh  supply  of  water. 

"We  must  fetch  a  doctor,"  said  Holth.  He 
wanted  to  go  out  again. 

"He's  been.  He  was  afraid  it  might  be  in- 
flammation of  the  lungs." 

Holth  did  not  go  to  bed.  The  little  girl  was 
in  a  high  fever  and  delirious,  and  kept  trying 
to  get  up.  Her  mother  walked  up  and  down 
with  her,  and  Holth  had  to  relieve  her;  and 
while  she  went  backwards  and  forwards  with 
the  moaning  child  in  her  arms,  he  thought  of 
the  first  time  he  had  gone  to  meet  Astrid  by 
appointment,  and  had  unclasped  the  little 
hands  clinging  round  his  knees. 

"And  now  you're  to  have  a  divorce,"  said  an 
inward  voice.  "You're  so  happy,  you  know. 
It's  been  a  wonderful  evening  you've  had." 
"Yes,  yes!"  his  heart  cried  in  answer.  "I 
wouldn't  exchange  it  for  anything  in  the 
world."  And  thoughts  of  Astrid  crowded  in 
Upon  him,  making  him  forget  his  poor  home 
and  the  sick  child,  and  filled  him  with  a  joy  so 
intense,  so  painful,  and  so  strangely  beautiful, 


214  Life 

that  he  nearly  let  the  child  slip  out  of  his  arms. 
Then  he  awoke,  and  looked  anxiously  at  Su- 
sanna, who  felt  safe  in  his  strong  arms,  and 
turned  her  face  towards  him  as  she  settled 
down  to  sleep. 

"Father,"  she  murmured  sleepily.  "Are  we 
going  to  the  country  tomorrow?" 

"Yes,  yes,  dear.  Go  to  sleep  now.  We're 
going  to  the  country  tomorrow." 

The  night  passed,  and  Selma  took  his  place 
again,  while  he  went  into  his  study  and  threw 
himself  on  the  sofa.  Suppose  the  child  were 
to  die  today,  would  he  nevertheless  go  this 
evening  to  meet  her — the  other  one — as  they 
had  arranged? 

"Yes!"  he  cried  wildly  and  in  desperation. 
"Yes !  It  is  to  her  I  now  belong,  and  nothing 
in  the  world  shall  tear  me  from  her!"  But  he 
groaned,  his  mind  was  in  a  whirl;  he  wanted  to 
call  for  help,  and  yet  did  not  want  to  be  saved. 

The  day  passed  in  taking  turns  in  carrying 
the  sick  child  up  and  down  the  room,  and  the 
doctor  came  again.  Towards  evening  Holth 
tottered  into  his  room  to  change  his  clothes  and 


Life  215 

shave,  for  he  meant  to  go  out.    He  told  Selma 
he  was  going  to  fetch  another  doctor. 

While  he  stood  at  the  glass,  scraping  the 
soap  off  his  face,  he  could  hear  his  wife  walk- 
ing up  and^lown  with  the  little  one,  and  try- 
ing to  sing,  although  her  voice  was  worn  and 
hoarse : 

"Pussy  sat  spinning  tinder  the  stove, 
When  mousey  came  out  of  her  hole." 

At  last  he  was  ready,  hut  just  as  he  had  left 
the  room  on  his  way  to  the  door,  he  met  the 
eldest  boy  in  the  passage  with  a  letter  for  him. 

He  knew  her  handwriting  and  went  into  the 
study  to  read  it.  His  heart  trembled ;  the  little 
piece  of  paper  breathed  love,  and  he  kissed  it 
with  a  smile.  But  when  he  opened  it,  it  was 
to  read: 
Dear  Mr.  Holth: 

I  am  not  coming  this  evening,  nor  tomor- 
row, nor  any  other  time.  If  only  I  had  not 
gone  yesterday!  Perhaps  I  shall  get  through 
these  days,  too,  but  God  help  me! 

I  forbid  you  to  meet  me  any  more. 
tYours  truly, 

Astrid  Riis. 


216     t  Life 

Holth  stared  before  him  with  fixed  gaze, 
then  crushed  the  paper  between  his  hands,  and 
let  his  head  sink  upon  his  breast.  Then  he 
threw  himself  upon  the  sofa,  turned  his  face 
to  the  wall  and  closed  his  eyes.  And  as  he  did 
so,  he  heard  again,  to  the  accompaniment  of 
tired  footsteps: 

"Pussy  sat  spinning  under  the  stove, 
When  mousey  came  out  of  her  hole. 
Tra  la  la  la,  tra  la  la." 


XII 

THE  house  on  Bygdo  was  quiet  while  Rei- 
dar  Bang  lay  and  smoked  a  cigar  after  dinner. 
All  the  other  members  of  his  family  were  on 
the  mountains,  but  he  had  not  time  to  go  away, 
for  just  now  he  was  engaged  in  a  big  specula- 
tion in  metal-deposits,  and  often  sat  working, 
or  at  meetings,  until  far  on  in  the  night.  To- 
day he  had  been  for  a  good  hard  ride  and  had 
then  had  a  swim,  after  which  both  his  dinner 
and  the  rest  after  it  were  very  enjoyable. 

This  ceaseless  work  helped  him  to  forget 
that  in  reality  he  was  not  happy.  This  was 
not,  of  course,  on  account  of  a  girl.  No,  it  was 
something  invisible  that  was  always  stealing 
about  him  and  trying  to  rob  him  of  his  sleep 
and  of  his  power  to  work,  and  make  him  weak 
and  discouraged.  The  same  desire  to  scorn  a 
sorrow  that  had  made  him,  on  Midsummer 
Eve,  set  light  to  that  bonfire,  now  kept  him 
continually  at  work  with  the  one  object  of  set- 
ting his  foot  upon  the  invisible  evil. 

217 


218  Life 

The  verandah  door  stood  open,  and  the 
awning  fluttered  in  a  light  breeze  from  the 
fjord.  A  brown  gordon  setter  came  stealing 
in  and  licked  his  master's  hand;  but  when  he 
did  not  obtain  so  much  as  a  look  in  answer,  he 
curled  up  on  the  floor  with  his  nose  upon  his 
hind  legs. 

"If  that  fly  gets  to  the  top  of  the  pane  with- 
out flying  away,"  said  Reidar  to  himself,  "I'll 
send  her  a  letter  this  evening."  But  suddenly 
he  turned  over  quickly  and  tried  to  sleep.  He 
remembered  how  often  he  had  got  up  in  the 
middle  of  the  night  to  write  a  letter,  which  he 
always  tore  up  as  soon  as  it  was  written. 

A  step  sounded  on  the  verandah.  A  woman's 
step?  He  sprang  up.  Was  he  not  always  ex- 
pecting something?  But  the  dog  ran  out  with 
a  bark  of  joy,  and  in  another  moment  Inga 
stood  in  the  doorway  with  the  dog's  fore-paws 
resting  on  her  hips. 

"Oh,  is  it  you?"  he  said,  passing  his  hand 
across  his  forehead.  "Are  you  in  town?" 

"Why,  of  course,  I  had  to  come  in  and  see 
whether  Henrik  was  alive.  He  isn't  going  to 
have  any  holiday,  poor  fellow.  And  just 


Life  219 

fancy!     In  his  spare  time  he's  made  all  the 
drawing-room  furniture!" 

"Would  you  like  some  strawberries  and 
cream?" 

"Yes,  thank  you." 

The  young  girl  was  as  brown  as  a  Red  In- 
'dian,  and  her  eyes  beamed  with  health  and 
good  spirits ;  and  she  attacked  the  strawberries, 
when  they  came,  with  voracity. 

"So  your  young  man's  building  your  nest, 
is  he?  That  must  be  jolly."  Reidar  was  sit- 
ting in  his  shirt-sleeves,  with  his  chin  sup- 
ported in  his  hands. 

"Yes,  and  do  you  know — but  it's  a  secret, 
let  me  ask  you  to  remember — in  the  autumn, 
before  we  get  married,  he  has  decided  to  leave 
the  place  he's  in  now,  and  start  business  on  his 
own  account.  And  you  mustn't  think  he'll 
take  a  farthing  from  either  father  or  you. 
He's  going  to  manage  it  all  by  himself.  And 
if  he  doesn't  get  any  houses  to  build,  it'll  be 
terribly  exciting."  And  she  went  on  to  tell 
him  of  their  life  on  the  mountains,  about  her 
father,  who  had  begun  writing  a  book  on  the 
Franco- German  War,  her  mother,  who  was 


220  Life 

weaving,  and  Fru  Ramm,  who  was  looking 
after  the  children. 

"Have  you  seen  any  one  else  in  town?" 
asked  Reidar  vaguely. 

"I  caught  a  glimpse  of  Astrid  Riis  with  a 
basket  on  her  arm,  but  you  needn't  think  I'd 
go  up  to  her  after  the  way  she  treated  me  the 
last  time  we  were  together.  Do  you  know 
what  they're  saying  about  her  now?  It's  only 
a  story,  of  course " 

"What  are  they  saying?"  Reidar  suddenly 
stood  up. 

"Nothing,"  said  his  sister  evasively.  "The 
strawberries  were  delicious,"  she  went  on,  as 
she  pushed  away  the  empty  plate. 

"No,  I  say,  you  must  tell  me.  What  have 
you  heard?"  He  was  giving  himself  away 
beautifully,  only  his  youngest  sister  had  al- 
ready guessed  it  long  ago. 

"Well,  I  must  be  off  again,"  she  said,  get- 
ting up.  "I'm  going  by  the  five  o'clock  train." 

But  Reidar  put  his  hands  upon  her  shoul- 
ders and  held  her  firmly.  "Out  with  it !  What 
have  you  heard?" 

The  young  girl  laughed  up  into  his  face. 


Life  221 

"Do  you  think  you'll  get  anything  out  of  me 
in  that  way?  What  have  I  heard?  Nothing, 
my  dear  boy.  It  was  only  my  nonsense.  Will 
you  let  me  go  now,  you  wicked  ogre?  Now, 
good-bye,  and  mind  you  eat  a  little,  for  you're 
on  the  way  to  become  a  skeleton ;  but  I  won't 
tell  mother  that.  Now,  let  me  go!  Good- 
bye!" As  she  went  out,  she  turned  and  her 
white  teeth  gleamed  in  a  smile  as  she  added: 
"You  shouldn't  trouble  yourself  about  people 
who  don't  deserve  it,  Reidar.  You  should  be 
above  that.  Good-bye!  Shall  I  give  them 
your  love  at  home?" 

Reidar  stood  looking  at  nothing  in  particu- 
lar, and  forgot  to  see  her  out. 

That  night  again  he  got  out  of  bed  to  write, 
but  his  writing  became  illegible,  and  the  con- 
tents of  the  letter  confused ;  and  when  the  sun 
peeped  in  at  the  window,  he  was  still  sitting 
in  his  night-shirt  with  his  elbows  on  the  writ- 
ing-table. 

A  few  evenings  later,  after  he  had  gone  to 
bed,  he  heard  a  familiar  voice  beneath  his  win- 
dow, calling,  "Hullo,  old  fellow!  Are  you 
asleep?" 


222  Life 

When  he  went  to  the  open  window,  he  saw 
Paul  Tangen  standing  in  the  garden. 

"Why,  bless  me,  are  you  in  town,  too?  I'll 
come  down  and  open  the  door." 

He  padded  down  on  his  bare  feet,  and 
brought  his  friend  up  to  his  bedroom. 

"By-the-bye,"  said  Reidar,  as  he  began  to 
draw  on  his  trousers;  "the  first  thing  I  owe 
you  is  a  sound  flogging." 

"No,  really?"  said  Tangen,  seating  himself 
in  a  comfortable  chair,  and  beginning  to  fill 
his  pipe. 

"Yes,  when  I  heard  that  you'd  let  all  your 
goods  and  chattels  be  sold  by  auction  like  any 
bankrupt,  without  so  much  as  giving  me  warn- 
ing, I  felt  inclined  to  come  after  you  and  give 
you  a  thrashing.  You  don't  know,  perhaps, 
that  it's  a  reflection  on  us  who  are  your 
friends?" 

"My  dear  fellow," — the  painter  lighted  his 
pipe  and  blew  out  the  match — "if  you  ever  get 
put  up  for  auction,  I'm  scarcely  likely  to  be 
able  to  rescue  you.  Perhaps  you'd  have  gone 
to  my  auction  and  bought  my  nicest  things, 


Life  223 

and  I  should  have  met  them  again  here  in  your 
rooms.  No,  thank  you!' 

"I  could  have  lent  you  the  money  you 
wanted,  of  course."  Reidar  had  got  into  his 
dressing-gown,  and  was  walking  up  and  down 
exictedly. 

"And  from  that  day  the  painter  was  to  have 
lived  like  a  parasite  upon  his  rich  friend. 
Thank  you  kindly!  One  reads  of  such  things 
in  novels.  And  now  I  propose  that  we  talk 
of  something  else.  How  are  you  ?  How  many 
of  your  rivals  have  you  got  rid  of  lately?" 

"Oh,  bother!"  Reidar  sat  down  and  lighted 
a  cigarette. 

"You  look  well!"  said  Tangen,  taking  care 
not  to  smile.  He  was  almost  appalled  at  the 
sight  of  his  friend's  face,  which  was  changed 
into  bone  and  hard  lines. 

"Tell  me  a  little  about  what  you're  doing 
out  in  the  country.  Do  you  really  mean  to 
bury  yourself  there  for  ever  and  a  day?" 

"It's  splendid  to  live  in  the  country.  You 
become  so  honest  towards  yourself.  Fate  saw 
that  I  was  in  want  of  a  header,  and  there  I 
am,  sunning  myself  day  after  day,  in  punish- 


224  Life 

ment  and  retribution.  No  flirtations ;  no  great 
man's  whims.  I  was  positively  on  the  way  to 
become  a  superficial  and  make-believe  artist; 
but  now  I'm  getting  the  dust  out  of  my  eyes 
and  becoming  able  to  see  originality  again. 
Things  such  as  a  little  ragged  urchin,  a  load 
of  hay,  or  a  tethered  horse,  not  to  mention  a 
birch  or  pine  in  a  wind,  are  all  of  them  mys- 
teries that  might  give  an  artist  enough  to  pon- 
der over  for  a  whole  lifetime.  But  you  don't 
want  to  hear  all  this!" 

"And  your  wife?" 

Tangen  got  up.  "An  idyl,  my  dear  boy! 
Love-making  and  newly-married  nonsense  be- 
tween us  from  morning  till  night.  Envy  me, 
you  wealthy  hermit!" 

"Then  what  are  you  doing  in  town?" 

Tangen  did  not  answer  at  once.  He  did  not 
want  to  tell  the  truth,  which  was  that  he  was 
afraid  how  it  might  end  with  Reidar,  if  things 
were  as  he  suspected. 

"Well,"  he  said,  "I've  found  a  ptarmigan- 
shoot  up  in  Valdres,  and  I  wanted  to  come 
down  and  tempt  you." 

"Haven't  time  now.     And  I'm  not  well, 


Life  225 

either."  Reidar  looked  at  his  brown  dog, 
which  sat  gazing  at  him  and  moving  its  tail 
along  the  floor,  as  if  it  understood  what  they 
were  talking  about. 

"By-the-bye,  do  you  see  anything  of  the 
schoolmaster?" 

"Holth?  No,  not  much.  He's  been  here 
two  or  three  times  to  borrow  a  boat.  I  sup- 
pose it's  to  take  his  family  on  the  fjord." 

Tangen  looked  out  of  the  window  and 
nodded.  "Y-yes,  of  course."  But  then  he 
began  to  talk  about  his  new  dog,  about  the 
splendid  shoot  in  Valdres,  about  lakes  full  of 
trout,  about  sasters  and  superstitious  old 
women.  Reidar  looked  as  if  he  were  waking 
up,  and  at  last  he  sprang  np.  "What's  to- 
day?" 

"It's  the  twenty-fifth — the  day  after  tomor- 
row." 

"Then,  confound  it,  take  me  with  you.  I'm 
getting  perfectly  mouldy  here  with  calcula- 
tions and  want  of  sleep  and  all  kinds  of  idio- 
cies. A  taste  of  mountain  air  should  do  one 
good."  And  he  began  to  dress,  as  if  he  were 
going  to  set  off  at  once. 


226  Life 

The  next  morning  they  were  seated  in  the 
train  to  Valdres  and  towards  evening  they 
were  walking  up  a  stony  mountain  road  with 
gun,  game-bag,  and  each  his  dog  on  a  chain. 
The  wooded  hills  lay  below  them,  and  when 
they  looked  back  they  could  just  see,  far  below 
in  the  valley,  mown  hay-fields  and  yellow  corn- 
fields beside  narrow  lakes ;  and  far  to  the  north 
the  blue  ranges  of  Jotunheim  with  their  snowy 
summits. 

Reidar  often  sat  down,  and  though  he  drew 
deep  breaths  of  enjoyment,  and  unbuttoned 
his  coat  to  get  the  cool  wind,  Tangen  could  see 
how  done-up  he  was,  and  how  the  perspiration 
ran  down  his  forehead. 

"There  must  have  been  uncommonly  high 
pressure  to  put  such  an  engine  as  that  out  of 
gear,"  he  thought.  "Upon  my  word,  it  was 
high  time  to  get  him  away  for  a  little." 

As  they  walked  along  side  by  side  over  the 
moor,  Reidar  suddenly  stopped  and  stood 
gazing  at  the  ground  between  the  car-ruts. 

"What's  that?"  he  said,  looking  up  at  Tan- 
gen.  "That's  the  third  time  since  we  began 
to  climb  that  I've  come  upon  a  cross."  And 


Life  227 

he  pointed  down  at  two  twigs,  one  of  which 
happened  to  be  lying  across  the  other.  "You 
may  say  what  you  like,  but  we  shall  soon  hear 
of  a  death." 

"Oh,  well,  there's  always  some  one  or  other 
dying,"  answered  Tangen  carelessly.  "Oh, 
you  calculating  man  of  iron,  do  you  still  culti- 
vate mysticism?" 

Reidar  sat  down  upon  a  stone  once  more, 
and  mechanically  patted  his  dog,  which  had 
laid  its  head  upon  his  knee.  Tangen  sat  down 
close  by,  and  looked  at  his  friend.  "We  shall 
hardly  reach  our  destination  by  supper-time," 
he  thought.  "But  never  mind!" 

"Mysticism,"  began  Reidar,  passing  his 
hand  .over  his  tired  face.  "As  if  most  things 
were  not  inexplicable  in  this  world !  Now  you 
think  that  an  artist  is  something  very  ethereal, 
and  that  a  business-man  tramps  over  the 
ground  in  wooden  shoes.  But  suppose  I  were 
to  tell  you  of  the  music  of  gold  and  the  money- 
market?" 

"Eh?    Music?" 

"Yes,  music.  The  fortunate  speculator  is 
not  he  who  calculates  best,  but  he  who  knows 


228  Life 

how  to  listen.  I  know  a  man  who  has  several 
times  risked  his  whole  fortune,  but  never  been 
nervous,  because  he  was  sure  he  had  heard  cor- 
rectly. He  is  lying  one  night  half  asleep,  and 
notices  the  rustle  of  corn  over  the  earth,  and 
in  men's  minds  and  the  exchanges  and  money- 
market  tables,  and  he  takes  a  pencil  and  puts 
down  some  figures  as  a  composer  would  put 
down  his  notes.  Then  comes  the  moment  when 
he  feels  he  has  to  strike,  and  it  is  like  a  bow 
drawn  across  a  violin.  A  fortnight  ago  I  lay 
awake,  too,  and  suddenly  began  to  hear  the 
ore  sing,  Nordland  ore,  the  endless  abundance 
that  will  soon  create  towns  and  enormous  busi- 
nesses. I  listened  for  a  while,  and  then  got  up 
and  began  to  go  through  the  papers  I  have 
relating  to  the  mines  there.  I  found  none  of 
them  satisfactory,  but  the  next  day  a  Lapp 
comes  to  me  and  shows  me  samples.  "There  it 
is,"  I  say  to  myself,  and  again  I  hear  the 
strange  song.  To  make  sure,  I  go  to  the  gov- 
ernment analyst  and  get  an  analysis,  and  it  is 
first-rate.  Well,  now  I'm  deep  in  the  matter, 
and  have  thrown  my  whole  being  into  it.  What 
do  you  say  to  that?" 


Life  229 

Tangen  sat  looking  at  him.  "I've  heard  of 
something  like  this  before,"  he  thought. 
"When  strong  men  go  through  a  period  of 
excitement,  they  either  go  mad  or  become  like 
him." 

It  was  dark  when  they  reached  a  cluster  of 
sasters  just  visible  beside  a  narrow  lake  at  the 
foot  of  a  high  grey  mountain-ridge.  Here  and 
there  a  cowbell  sounded  from  the  low  cow- 
sheds, and  at  one  of  the  cottages  Tangen 
stopped,  saying:  "Here  it  is." 

They  entered  a  dimly-lighted  room,  and  saw 
a  fat  woman  with  a  rope  round  her  waist, 
standing  at  the  fire,  stirring  something  in  a 
pot.  A  long  table  of  planks,  a  spinning-wheel 
upon  the  floor,  and  cheeses  and  flat  tubs  of 
milk  on  shelves  along  the  walls,  were  just  dis- 
cernible ;  and  the  room  was  filled  with  a  mixed 
smell  of  milk,  cheese,  cooking,  bed-clothes, 
human  beings  and  burning  juniper  branches. 

The  woman  knew  the  artist  at  once,  as  he 
had  been  there  before;  and  she  hastened  to 
light  a  candle,  dry  her  right  hand  upon  her 
skirt,  and  extend  it  to  them  in  welcome.  Half 
an  hour  later  a  meal  consisting  of  thick  sour 


230  Life 

cream,  fried  trout,  a  monster  cheese  and  bread 
as  hard  as  iron,  stood  upon  the  table ;  and  the 
sportsmen  were  as  hungry  as  wolves  after 
their  long  tramp. 

For  sleeping  accommodation  they  were 
shown  a  broad  bed  out  in  a  tiny  room,  where 
the  tallow  candle  cast  a  dim  light  upon  walls 
papered  with  old,  yellow  newspapers. 

The  artist  went  out  to  look  at  the  weather, 
and  when  he  came  in  said:  "I  can  hear  the 
ptarmigan  cackling  all  round  about.  By  to- 
morrow evening  several  of  them  won't  have 
much  to  say." 

It  was  almost  sad  to  think  of  the  long  pro- 
cession of  sportsmen  and  dogs  that  had  noisily 
passed  up  through  the  valley.  Tomorrow  they 
would  be  let  loose  upon  the  peaceable  birds  for 
miles  over  the  mountains,  shots  would  echo 
from  every  hill,  and  many  a  bleeding  wing 
would  beat  among  the  osiers. 

The  mattress  proved  to  be  fresh  hay  with  a 
coloured  woollen  covering  laid  over  it.  The 
tired  travellers  lay  down  side  by  side  and  soon 
fell  asleep,  while  the  dogs  on  the  floor  kicked 
and  whimpered  in  restless  dreams  of  sport. 


Life  231 

Early  the  next  morning,  after  a  cup  of 
coffee,  the  two  men  set  off  across  the  sseter- 
enclosure  with  their  pipes  in  their  mouths.  A 
heavy  watery  sky  lay  low  over  mountain  and 
moor,  and  mirrored  its  woolly  clouds  in  tarn 
and  lake.  Tangen's  white  setter  tumbled 
about  over  stock  and  stone  with  its  black  ears 
turned  inside  out;  and  Reidar's  dark  brown 
galloped  backwards  and  forwards  between  the 
juniper-bushes  with  its  nose  to  the  ground. 

"What  sort  of  a  blunderbuss  is  that  you've 
got  there?"  growled  Reidar  contemptuously, 
when  he  saw  the  artist's  gun  taken  out  of  its 
case.  "Look  here !"  And  he  exhibited  his  new 
hammerless  of  the  newest  model. 

"Take  care,  old  man,  that  I  don't  bring 
down  more  birds  than  that  does!"  answered 
Tangen  gaily,  stepping  out  briskly. 

The  heather  was  so  wet  that  their  gaiters 
were  soon  shining  and  dripping,  and  a  cutting 
wind  froze  their  hands  and  faces.  But  who 
would  notice  such  trifles  now! 

"Do  you  believe  in  dreams?"  asked  Reidar, 
as  he  puf  two  cartridges  into  his  gun. 

"I  doubt  more  than  I  believe,"  answered  the 


232  Life 

other,  hoping  to  make  his  companion  tell  him 
more  about  himself.  "Did  you  dream  any- 
thing special  last  night?" 

"Pan's  got  scent  of  something!"  Both  men 
stopped.  The  brown  dog  had  become  very 
cautious  in  its  movements,  its  back  long  and 
low,  and  its  face  wise-looking.  The  white  dog 
noticed  it,  and  approached  with  the  same  cau- 
tion, though  it  had  evidently  not  yet  caught 
the  scent;  and  then  began  that  play  between 
two  dogs  that  suspect  the  presence  of  game, 
but  do  not  yet  know  where  it  is.  Now  and 
then  they  stood  still  and  sniffed  the  air,  and 
then  went  over  to  each  other  as  if  to  say: 
"What  do  you  think?"  or  "Now  take  care  and 
don't  make  a  mistake!"  The  two  sportsmen 
stood  ready  with  their  loaded  guns,  watching 
anxiously. 

"Wild's  got  it,"  exclaimed  Tangen,  pleased 
that  it  was  his  dog,  as  the  white  dog  moved 
right  in  the  face  of  the  wind,  its  tail  waving 
vigorously.  Now  it  stood  still  for  a  moment 
with  head  stretched  forward,  then  moved  on  a 
few  paces,  stopped  again,  quivering  with  ex- 
citement, then  took  another  cautious  step,  and 


Life  233 

at  last  stood  motionless  with  extended  tail, 
looking  a  little  to  one  side  as  it  raised  one  fore- 
foot. 

"Careful  now,  Wild!"  cautioned  Tangen,  as 
the  two  men  approached  with  beating  hearts. 

"There's  Pan  standing,  too!"  said  Reidar. 
"It's  a  big  covey." 

But  it  was  the  first  day,  and  the  birds  kept 
close,  so  that  the  dogs  had  to  be  made  to  ad- 
vance again  and  again.  The  birds  must  have 
hidden  themselves  behind  some  large  juniper 
bushes,  for  look  as  they  would  they  could  not 
discover  a  feather. 

"Forward,  Wild!  Careful!"  The  white 
dog  advanced  a  couple  of  steps,  but  then  lay 
down  trembling  with  anxiety  lest  it  should  do 
anything  wrong. 

Suddenly  the  brown  heather  a  few  paces  in 
front  of  Tangen's  feet  became  alive,  and  a 
flock  of  brown  birds  with  white  wing-feathers 
got  up.  Four  shots  were  fired,  Tangen's  last 
and  at  a  greater  interval,  as  he  gave  himself 
time  to  take  aim.  Two  birds  fell,  and  he  was 
sure  they  were  his ;  but  Reidar  declared  angrily 
that  one  of  them  was  his.  "Very  well," 


234  Life 

thought  Tangen,  "let  him  think  so;  but  he 
fired  off  his  shots  like  a  raw  recruit,  and  missed 
as  sure  as  I  stand  here.  He  must  be  in  a  bad 
way!" 

They  agreed  to  separate  and  each  work  on 
his  own  account.  Reidar's  dog  put  up  many 
birds,  but  the  fault  with  them  all  was  that 
they  flew.  The  artist's  gun  was  heard  con- 
tinually, and  fortune  favoured  him;  but  when 
a  couple  of  hours  had  passed,  and  Reidar  out 
of  twenty  shots  had  only  killed  two  birds,  he 
called  in  his  dog,  sat  down  upon  a  stone  and 
wiped  his  forehead.  "It's  no  use,"  he  said  to 
himself,  "I'm  only  thinking  of  her  all  the 
time." 

For  the  ninety-ninth  time  he  asked  himself 
what  his  sister  could  have  meant.  Why  would 
she  not  tell  him?  What  had  happened? 

"Don't  worry  1"  he  counselled  himself,  as  he 
took  out  his  pipe,  filled  and  lighted  it,  and, 
leaning  on  his  elbow,  gazed  lazily  out  over  the 
expanse  of  pink  ling  stretching  away  beneath 
the  woolly  sky.  He  heard  the  sombre  sounds 
of  the  mountain,  the  rushing  of  brooks,  the 
rustle  of  the  ling  in  the  wind,  the  distant  cry 


Life  235 

of  an  eagle  from  the  clouds,  cow-bells  on  the 
other  side  of  the  lake,  and  now  and  then  the 
report  of  a  gun.  His  eyelids  dropped,  and  he 
was  moving  in  the  same  dream-country  as  last 
night.  He  heard  a  scream  from  a  thicket, 
went  to  it  and  found — her,  wounded  and  bleed- 
ing. Ah,  that  was  a  dream,  too!  But  now  he 
heard  cow-bells  close  by,  and  sprang  up  to  find 
himself  surrounded  by  a  herd  of  angry  cows 
trying  to  get  at  his  dog.  The  next  moment  he 
was  on  his  feet,  beating  his  way  through  them 
with  the  butt  end  of  his  gun;  but  for  a  long 
time  the  furious  animals  continued  to  follow 
the  dog,  which  always  sought  refuge  with  his 
master. 

In  the  meantime,  Tangen  had  been  fortu- 
nate and  had  filled  his  game-bag.  He  had  got 
in  among  some  steep  mountain  cliffs,  and 
thought  he  must  be  a  long  way  from  human 
beings,  when  suddenly  the  mountains  opened 
out  round  a  small  lake,  on  the  shore  of  which 
stood  a  cluster  of  red-painted  sseters.  He 
went  into  one  of  them,  where  he  found  a  young 
girl  in  Norwegian  peasant  dress,  who  not  only 
supplied  him  with  milk,  but  was  easily  pro- 


236  Life 

voked  to  laughter.  Whether  she  had  a  sweet- 
heart? Perhaps!  And  what  was  he?  At  the 
school  for  teachers.  What  was  her  name? 
"Really?  My  sweetheart's  name  is  Ragnhild, 
too,"  said  the  artist;  "so  I  think  you  might  sit 
upon  my  knee  for  a  little."  The  girl  pushed 
her  dark  hair  off  her  forehead,  laughed,  and 
sat  upon  his  knee  for  a  little  while;  and  after 
a  little  persuasion  he  also  got  a  kiss,  and  later 
on  another.  Gay  and  cheered  by  his  little  ad- 
venture, he  then  went  on  his  way  after  paying 
liberally  for  the  milk. 

Later  in  the  day  he  came  upon  the  ruins  of 
an  old  saster  beside  a  lonely  tarn.  The  little 
window  in  the  cottage  was  broken,  the  roof  of 
the  low  cow-shed  had  fallen  in,  the  saeter- 
enclosure  was  overgrown  with  trees,  and  there 
were  only  remnants  of  the  fence.  Tangen  was 
lost  in  contemplation  of  the  sight,  and  in  a 
little  while  sat  down,  lighted  his  pipe,  and  lay 
leaning  upon  his  elbow.  This  forsaken  dwell- 
ing filled  him  with  a  strange  emotion.  Grass 
had  grown  over  the  paths  made  by  people  and 
animals,  and  perhaps  fifty  years  ago  a  young 
Ragnhild  lived  here,  who  blew  the  cow-herd's 


Life  237 

horn  and  made  the  mountains  echo  for  miles 
round.  And  in  the  autumn  evenings,  when  the 
wind  whistled  round  the  corners  of  the  hut, 
she  listened  for  footsteps;  but  there  was  only 
the  sound  of  the  brook  as  it  ran.  The  moon 
played  upon  the  tarn  where  the  fish  leaped, 
the  cow-bell  rang  in  the  cow-shed,  and  the  fire 
crackled  on  the  hearth,  but  no  one  came. 

Then  at  last  one  night  he  came.  The  hay 
in  the  bed  was  fresh  and  crisp. 

A  couple  of  months  later  he  had  married 
another,  and  she  lay  there  and  buried  her  face 
in  the  pillow  of  rough  sacking.  The  hay  swal- 
lowed her  tears  and  the  darkness  her  moans. 
It  is  fifty  years  ago  now,  but  fifty  years  before 
that  the  same  thing  happened  to  her  grand- 
mother, only  the  lad  who  came  then  wore  shoes 
with  buckles,  and  knee-breeches;  but  the  hay 
in  the  bed  smelt  as  fresh  and  was  just  as  crisp 
then  as  now. 

It  is  only  a  hundred  years  altogether,  but 
the  saeter  has  stood  here  for  a  long,  long  time, 
so  much  will  have  happened.  But  now  the 
paths  are  grass-grown,  and  all  the  old  Ragn- 
hilds  lie  in  the  churchyard,  and  weep  no  more, 


238  Life 

and  no  longer  wait  for  any  one,  no  matter  how 
brightly  the  moon  shines. 

And  you,  Paul  Tangen,  who  are  forty  now 
— your  youth  is  dead,  too.  The  time  when  you 
ran  to  the  sseter  because  some  one  was  expect- 
ing you — when  you  won,  lost,  received  and 
gave  among  young  women — that  time  lies 
buried  in  the  churchyard.  And  yet  you  are 
alive !  Is  it  worth  it ! 

Oh,  to  be  twenty  again,  and  be  able  to  begin 
at  the  beginning!  And  again  his  thoughts 
flew  to  his  old  home,  where  he  dimly  believed 
that  the  girls  he  had  known  as  a  lad  still  went 
about  as  slim  and  pretty  as  ever. 

When  at  last  he  rose  and  left  the  spot,  he 
turned  several  times  and  looked  back,  as  if 
the  spirits  of  those  girls  of  long  ago  still  fre- 
quented the  forsaken  place. 

Late  in  the  day  he  walked  across  a  mountain- 
ridge  with  the  brown  grass  underfoot,  juniper- 
bushes  all  round  him,  and  in  front  a  dark  talus 
sloping  up  into  the  rolling  mist.  A  pair  of 
eagles  cried  up  in  the  air,  and  he  stood  and 
watched  their  flight  as  they  now  hung  motion- 
less with  grey  wings  outstretched,  now  fol- 


Life  239 

lowed  one  another  in  wild  chase.  They  came 
so  close  to  him  that  he  could  see  their  curved 
beaks;  he  fired  off  both  barrels,  but  with  his 
small  shot  he  might  just  as  well  have  shot  at 
the  moon.  At  last  beside  a  cairn  he  caught 
sight  of  Reidar,  standing  out,  motionless, 
against  the  sky,  leaning  on  his  gun. 

He  shouted  to  him,  but  the  other  did  not 
answer,  and  it  was  only  when  the  artist  came 
close  up  to  him  that  he  seemed  to  wake  up. 
His  bag  lay  on  the  ground  almost  empty. 

"It's  beautiful  here,"  said  Reidar  without 
changing  his  position,  and  for  a  moment  they 
both  stood  looking  at  the  wide  landscapes  far 
below  them,  stretching  for  miles  on  all  sides 
in  the  grey  light,  with  shining  lakes  dotted 
over  the  brown  moors,  grey  bogs  and  autumn- 
tinted  dwarf  birch.  The  wind  had  dropped, 
and  the  sky,  with  its  clouds  like  hanging 
masses  of  wool,  was  reflected  in  the  lakes ;  but 
here  and  there,  on  a  mountain-side  or  on  the 
moor,  a  streak  of  light  pierced  the  cloud  and 
made  a  little  yellow  patch  on  the  dark  ground. 

"I'm  going  home,"  said  Reidar,  shouldering 
his  gun.  Tangen  went  with  him.  Reidar  said 


240  Life 

very  little  on  the  way,  but  all  at  once  he 
stopped  and  said:  "Do  you  believe  in 
dreams?" 

"You've  asked  me  that  once  before  today. 
Do  you  believe  in  them  yourself?" 

Reidar  did  not  reply  at  once,  but  then  said: 
"Have  you  never  had  a  feeling  that  some  one 
far  away  is  calling  you?" 

"My  dear  fellow,  you're  so  strange.  Hadn't 
you  better  tell  me  straight  out  what's  wrong?" 

Reidar  made  no  answer  for  a  long  time,  but 
before  they  reached  the  saster  he  said:  "If  we 
human  beings  were  not  so  idiotically  proud, 


things  might  perhaps  be  very  different.  As 
far  as  fate  is  concerned,  you've  said  one  ought 
to  give  it  a  kick  if  it  showed  itself  unpleasant ; 
but  now  suppose  it  were  to  be  a  long  struggle? 
It's  perhaps  easy  for  gods  to  preserve  their  | 
v  dignity,  but  it's  difficult  enough  for  humans." 
After  a  bathe  in  the  lake,  they  came  into 
the  saeter,  changed  their  clothes  and  had  din- 
ner ;  and  it  was  late  when  they  at  last  sat  with 
their  pipes,  drinking  whisky  and  water  by  the 
miserable  light  of  a  tallow  candle,  while  the 
little  house  was  shaken  by  the  gusts  of  wind, 


Life  241 

which  hacl  risen  once  more.  Tangen  tried  to 
put  Reidar  in  good  spirits  by  telling  some  of 
his  wildest  stories,  but  it  was  hopeless,  and  at 
last  he  became  quite  low-spirited  himself. 

In  the  middle  of  the  night,  when  they  had 
both  been  asleep  for  some  time,  Reidar  sud- 
denly sat  up  and  rubbed  his  eyes.  He  had 
dreamt  the  same  as  the  night  before,  and  al- 
most unconsciously  he  got  out  of  bed.  "What 
now?"  he  said  to  himself.  "What  am  I  do- 
ing?" And  while  he  dressed,  he  kept  asking 
himself  what  he  was  doing. 

He  dressed  without  waking  Tangen,  and 
then,  lighting  the  candle,  he  wrote  a  few  words 
on  a  leaf  torn  from  his  pocket-book,  placed  it 
upon  the  table,  and  crept  out.  He  was  fortu- 
nate enough  to  get  hold  of  his  gun  and  his  dog 
without  waking  the  old  woman  in  there;  and 
with  his  bag  in  his  hand  he  silently  left  the 
saeter. 

There  was  a  yellow,  stormy  light  upon  the 
moors  beneath  the  clear  sky,  across  which 
great  black  masses  of  cloud  chased  one  another 
in  wild  flight ;  and  as  he  set  off  along  the  rough 
road  with  his  dog,  and  his  gun  slung  across  his 


242  Life 

back,  he  saw  his  own  and  the  dog's  shadow 
following  like  some  monstrous  moving  phan- 
tom in  the  wind. 

"Goodness  knows  what's  going  to  happen," 
he  thought.  "But  she's  in  trouble,  she  has 
need  of  me,  and  I'm  coming." 


XIII 

IT  was  true,  perhaps,  that  Astrid  Riis  did 
not  sleep  so  well  just  as  this  time,  that  she  had 
no  appetite,  that  her  head  ached  strangely,  and 
that  both  in  the  office  and  in  the  kitchen  she 
would  often  fall  into  a  brown  study  and  just 
sit  staring  before  her.  But  she  was  strong, 
and  pulled  herself  together  so  that  no  one 
should  notice  anything;  she  had  to  listen  to 
her  father  reading,  and  appear  pleased  that  he 
would  soon  be  finished.  There  was  no  one  to 
ask  how  she  was,  and  no  one  who  gave  it  a 
thought. 

It  had  been  easier  before,  when  she  could 
imagine  all  the  things  she  had  to  do  without. 
The  little  kitchen  had  more  than  once  become 
a  ski-iug  hill,  full  of  youthful  figures,  the  little 
drawing-room  a  ball-room,  her  father's  step 
in  the  adjoining  room,  the  step  of  a  young 
man  coming  to  her.  But  now  it  was  disgust- 
ing to  dream,  her  dreams  had  played  tricks 
with  her,  betrayed  her,  so  that  she  had  been 

243 


244  Life 

driven  into  that  affair  with  Holth.  The  truth 
was  that  she  was  sinking  lower  and  lower,  that 
she  could  never  raise  herself  and  become  a 
pure,  innocent  girl  again.  It  was  best  to  look 
things  straight  in  the  face  and  try  to  bear 
them. 

One  day  she  was  standing  in  the  kitchen 
when  the  bell  rang,  and  thinking  it  was  a 
message-boy,  she  went  to  open  the  door  with- 
out taking  off  her  apron. 

At  the  door  stood  Reidar  Bang.  She  ut- 
tered a  little  cry,  but  before  she  could  shut  the 
door  again,  he  was  in  the  passage. 

"No,  no!"  she  stammered.  "You 
mustn't " 

"Froken  Riis,  I  must  speak  to  you." 

"Oh,  go!    Father— he's  in  there!" 

"I  intend  to  speak  to  your  father,  too,"  he 
said  quietly,  and  catching  sight  at  that  mo- 
ment of  a  half-open  door,  he  went  straight 
towards  it. 

"But  that's  the  kitchen,  Herr  Bang,  and  it" 
looks  dreadful.  Do  you  hear?" 

It  did  have  a  slightly  confusing  effect  upon 


Life  245 

him,  too,  but  they  had  both  entered  now,  and 
he  closed  the  door  behind  her. 

"Froken  Astrid!"  he  said,  seizing  both  her 
hands. 

"Oh,  no!  You  must  go!"  she  said,  as  trem- 
bling and  with  downcast  eyes  she  tried  to  free 
herself. 

"Tell  me  honestly "  he  began. 

"Let  me  go!    Let  me  go!" 

"You're  unhappy!" 

"Let  me  go!" 

She  breathed  heavily.  There  was  a  little 
pause,  and  she  raised  her  eyes  and  met  his.  At 
once  her  hands  ceased  struggling,  for  this  was 
no  dream;  it  was  no  horrible  man  she  was 
imagining;  it  was  he — he! 

"Mayn't  I  help  you,  Astrid!" 

But  the  next  moment  her  arms  were  round 
his  neck  and  she  was  clinging  to  him  with  her 
face  hidden  on  his  breast. 

Reidar  was  not  one  to  be  easily  upset,  and 
the  only  thing  for  him  to  do  now  was  to  kiss 
her;  but  when  he  gently  raised  her  face,  she 
suddenly  tore  herself  away  and  pushed  him 
from  her. 


246  Life 

"No,  no!    You  must  go!" 

"Astrid!" 

"It's  too  late,  Reidar."  And  she  fled  from 
him  to  the  other  side  of  the  room.  "It's  too 
late,"  sl^e  repeated.  "Do  you  hear?  You 
must  go  I" 

"Too  late?"  he  questioned  with  wide-open 
eyes,  and  taking  a  step  forward. 

"Oh,  do  go!  Here  comes  father!  Oh  dear, 
oh  dear!" 

He  saw  the  fear  in  her  face,  and  involun- 
tarily drew  back.  "Too  late?"  he  repeated  as 
if  to  himself.  "Too  late?" 

"Reidar,  don't  break  my  heart !    Go,  oh  go !" 

He  gave  in  to  her  and  allowed  himself  to  be 
pushed  out,  but  retained  sufficient  presence  of 
mind  to  say:  "Well,  I'll  go  now,  but  of  course 
I  shall  come  again,  Astrid." 

As  he  went  downstairs,  he  was  vexed  to  find 
that  his  knees  were  trembling.  "Idiot!"  he 
murmured.  "You're  not  drunk!" 

Meanwhile  the  captain  had  opened  the  door 
from   the    dining-room.      "What's    all   this? 
Who  was  that?" 
•     He  saw  that  she  hastened  to  smooth  her 


Life  247 

hair,  and  when  she  stammered  that  it  was  the 
man  with  the  coals,  he  pursed  up  his  mouth 
and  hurrying  to  the  kitchen-door,  tore  it  open. 
But  there  was  no  one  to  be  seen  on  the  stairs. 

"I  wonder  what's  going  on  here,"  he  mur- 
mured, as  he  shuffled  back  again. 

Later  in  the  day,  when  she  had  somewhat 
calmed  down  again,  she  received  a  telegram: 
"When  can  we  meet?"  During  the  few  mo- 
ments in  which  she  pondered  her  answer,  she 
thought  of  two  things — of  her  father,  who 
would  have  a  stroke,  and  of  herself,  who  would 
have  to  tell  Reidar  about  Holth.  Then  she 
wrote  her  answer:  "Cannot.  Forget  mel" 
After  it  was  gone  she  had  to  sit  for  a  long  time 
and  hold  herself  tightly ;  but  then  suddenly  she 
could  not  help  smiling,  for  he  was  still  fond 
of  her,  and  she  had  had  her  arms  round  his 
neck  today.  She  did  not  feel  able  to  stay  in 
this  back  flat  now ;  she  must  go  out  and  try  to 
find  some  sunshine.  And  why  did  she  stand 
in  front  of  her  mirror  and  put  on  pretty  things 
as  if  she  were  going  to  meet  some  one,  and  why 
did  she  go  and  sit  down  on  a  seat  in  the  palace 
park  as  if  she  were  waiting  for  some  one? 


248  Life 

Many  young  men  appeared  in  the  distance  and 
passed,  and  in  the  distance  some  of  them  re- 
sembled Reidar ;  but  why  was  she  disappointed 
when  they  came  nearer?  She  knew  what  an- 
swer she  had  given. 

The  captain  had  to  wait  a  long  time  for  his 
supper,  and  when  at  last  Astrid  came  in,  he 
was  flushed  and  angrily  pacing  the  floor. 

"Well,  I  must  say!" 

"I've  been  for  a  walk,"  she  said  indiffe  .nt- 
ly,  going  towards  her  room. 

"So  you've  been  for  a  walk,  have  you?  And 
I — I've  been  sitting  working  and  toiling,  and 
haven't  even  had  supper !" 

"There's  bread  and  butter  on  the  kitchen 
dresser,"  she  said,  smiling  almost  maliciously. 
"I've  been  toiling  too  today,  and  I'm  tired 
now.  .Good-night !" 

He  stood  staring  at  the  door  after  it  had 
closed  upon  her.  This  was  a  new  way  of  an- 
swering and  behaving!  He  called  her,  and 
knocked  at  her  door,  but  it  was  locked;  and 
when  an  hour  later  his  anger  had  died  down, 
he  sat  on  lost  in  thought.  This  was  like — was 
like  a  woman  who  was  dead.  And  that  even- 


Life  249 

ing  Captain  Riis  forgot  to  get  any  supper  for 
himself. 

The  next  day  she  was  the  same  as  usual,  but 
when  he  had  lain  down  for  a  nap  after 
dinner,  if  she  didn't  begin  playing  the  flute 
out  in  the  kitchen!  He  put  his  feet  to  the 
ground  preparatory  to  rushing  out  to  her,  but 
got  no  farther.  This  conscious  way  of  defying 
him  reminded  him  so  vividly  of  another,  and 
it  made  him  so  strangely  powerless. 

The  same  afternoon,  while  Astrid  was  busy 
making  the  coffee,  she  heard  a  well-known 
step  on  the  back-stair,  and  her  brother  put  in 
his  head. 

"Can  I  come  in?" 

"Yes." 

This  time  he  wore  a  new  suit  of  clothes,  was 
well  shaved  and  clean ;  and  there  was  an  unu- 
sual expression  of  seriousness  and  determina- 
tion upon  his  face. 

"You're  looking  at  me,"  he  said.  "Well, 
I'm  on  that  journey  now  that  I  mentioned  be- 
fore. And  what  about  my  farewell  words  to 
the  old  'un?" 

"What  are  you  going  to  say,  Ivar?" 


250  Life 

He  pushed  his  reddish  hair  off  his  forehead 
and  laughed. 

"Isn't  it  funny  that  what  has  kept  me  up 
all  these  years  has  been  the  desire  to  meet 
father  one  day  and  look  him  in  the  face  and 
contradict  him.  When  I  was  little  he  gave 
me  the  birch  on  my  bare  back,  later  on  he 
boxed  my  ears  so  that  I  stumbled  right  across 
tEe  room,  and  last  of  all  he  preached  sermons 
at  me  twelve  times  a  day.  And  I  was  always 
a  coward  and  shrunk  up  like  a  wet  rag,  and  of 
course  he  thought  that  I  couldn't  even  think 
anything  myself.  Well,  since  then  I've  given 
Elm  some  trouble,  but  that  was  my  way  of 
hitting  back,  though  that  was  cowardly  too. 
But  today — well,  I've  borrowed  clothes  for 
the  ceremony.  I've  thought  out  a  good  deal 
in  all  these  years,  and  now  he  shall  bear  it,  if 
only  I  don't  let  myself  be  hounded  again  and 
lose  the  thread.  I've  brisked  myself  up  just 
enough." 

He  stood  there  tall,  thin  and  with  clean- 
shaven face,  and  winked  his  red  eyelids,  as  he 
fidgeted  with  his  new  straw  hat  like  a  boy. 

"Ivar,  things  are  happening  with  me  just 


Life  251 

as  you  said.  Nothing  can  save  me  now,  and 
the  worst  of  it  is  that  I've  begun  to  be  so 
naughty  and  bad,  and  feel  as  if  I  did  so  want 
Jo  hurt  father." 

He  looked  at  her  for  a  moment.  Was  it  the 
new  clothes  that  made  him  so  tactful?  He 
sat  down  beside  her,  and  took  her  hand  in  his, 
and  before  she  quite  knew  what  she  was  doing, 
she  was  telling  him  all  about  it. 

"Oh  indeed,"  he  said  at  last,  and  turned  his 
his  pale  face  towards  the  window.  Then  he 
stroked  her  hair  and  stood  up,  seeming  taller 
than  before. 

"Come  with  me!"  he  said/ 

"No,  Ivar!    No,  No!" 

"Come!"  he  said,  drawing  her  with  him. 
She  followed  him  in  a  dazed  way;  she  wanted 
to  be  with  him  when  he  faced  their  imperious 
father.  But  suppose — suppose  that  should 
happen  which  she  had  once  looked  upon  as  a 
desperate  idea,  but  had  latterly  begun  to  feel 
more  and  more  as  a  terrible  possibility — that 
she  too  would  have  the  courage  to  rise  and 
free  herself.  It  was  her  only  hope  of  salva- 
tion now,  but  she  involuntarily  looked  at  her 


252  Life 

hands  as  if  she  expected  they  would  be  bloody. 

"Come  on!" 

They  were  in  the  dark  passage,  and  near- 
ing  the  door. 

"Let  me  go,  Ivarl    I  can't,  I  tell  you!" 

"Come  on!" 

They  entered,  but  the  little  drawing-room, 
with  its  windows  looking  on  to  grey  walls, 
was  empty.  There  was  the  sound  of  some  one 
moving  about  in  the  next  room,  however,  and 
presently  the  door, opened  and  the  captain  ap- 
peared, looking  a  little  sleepy,  and  with  his 
coat  unbuttoned.  In  one  hand  he  held  a  long 
meerschaum  pipe,  and  his  mouth  moved  as  if 
it  still  held  the  mouthpiece.  "Well!"  he  said, 
expecting  Astrid  had  brought  his  coffee,  but 
then  he  stopped,  all  at  once  wide  awake.  His 
son  stood  there. 

"Good  day,  father!"  said  the  young  man, 
bowing,  but  uncertain  whether  to  hold  out  his 
hand. 

"What!"  The  hand  with  the  meerschaum 
pipe  began  to  tremble,  and  the  old  man  re- 
treated a  step. 


Life  253 

"I've  come  to  say  good-bye,  father.  I  start 
for  America  this  evening." 

"Oh!  Really!  Another  voyage  to  Amer- 
ica!" The  captain  recalled  the  times  he  had 
given  money  before  for  the  passage,  and  now 
perhaps  it  was  the  same  again. 

The  young  man  looked  calmly  at  his  father. 
"I've  got  help  from  a  friend,"  he  said.  "And 
I  hope  I  shall  not  have  to  ask  you  for  money 
any  more." 

"Thank  you!  And  you're  going  this  even- 
ing in  downright  earnest?" 

"Yes." 

"Well,  well,"  said  the  old  man,  looking  at 
his  pipe,  and  drawing  a  deep  breath.  "Well, 
God  be  with  you  then,  Ivar!  I — I — every- 
thing shall  be  forgotten  as  far  as  I  am  con- 
cerned." 

The  young  man  put  down  his  hat  and  pass- 
ed his  hand  across  his  forehead  as  if  to  collect 
himself.  "There  was  something  I  wanted  to 
say  to  you,  though,  father." 

The  old  man  thought  it  was  to  be  a  prayer 
for  forgiveness  and  waved  it  aside.  "No  need, 


254  Life 

Ivar.  Behave  better  where  you're  going, 
that's  all." 

"Well,  that  wasn't  what  I  was  going  to 
say."  There  was  a  pause,  during  which  the 
father  and  son  looked  at  one  another. 

"Wasn't  it?" 

Astrid  here  tried  to  slip  out,  but  her  brother 
put  his  hand  upon  the  door-handle  and  pre- 
vented her. 

"Ivar!"  she  begged. 

"No,  stay  here,  Astrid." 

"What  is  it?"  said  the  captain  looking  from 
one  to  the  other. 

Astrid  leaned  against  the  wall,  feeling  as 
if  the  floor  was  slipping  away  from  her;  for 
it  was  coming  now. 

"I've  something  to  settle  up,"  said  the  young 
man,  looking  his  father  straight  in  the  face. 

The  captain's  lips  grew  hard. 

"Won't  you  sit  down,  father?" 

"Thank  you,  I'd  rather  stand."  He  laid 
down  his  pipe  in  the  window. 

"You — you're  unhappy,  father." 

"What!"  said  the  old  man,  standing  erect. 

"For  we're  unhappy  too,  Astrid  and  I." 


Life  255 

"Oh!    And  is  that  my  fault?" 

"Has  that  never  occurred  to  you?" 

The  captain  drew  a  step  nearer,  with  wide- 
open  eyes,  and  there  was  a  pause. 

"Ivar!"  said  Astrid  again  beseechingly,  but 
her  brother  refused  to  let  her  go. 

"What  was  that  you  said?" 

The  son  again  passed  his  hand  across  his 
forehead,  as  if  to  find  the  right  words. 

"Yes,  father,  it's  quite  true  that  you've  had 
trouble,  but  if  the  parents  are  ill,  have  they  a 
right  to  infect  their  children?" 

The  old  man  threw  back  his  head  and  gazed 
open-mouthed. 

"And  if  the  parents  suffer  mental  torture, 
have  they  a  right  to  shut  up  their  children  in 
the  same  everlasting  torture?" 

Captain  Riis  looked  like  a  man  whose  hat 
had  blown  off,  and  who  did  not  know  which 
way  it  had  gone.  He  went  up  to  Ivar. 

"You've  been  drinking,  Ivar,  and  you  must 
go."  And  unconsciously  the  young  man  fell 
back  a  step  as  he  had  so  often  done  before 
when  he  was  going  to  be  punished;  but  at  the 


256  Life 

door  he  stopped  again,  picking  up  his  courage 
again,  and  faced  his  father  once  more. 

"Go,  Ivar!" 

Here  Astrid  went  to  her  brother,  and  again 
the  captain  opened  his  eyes  in  astonishment. 

"Yes,  father,  I'm  going;  but  first  you  shall 
know  that  we  had  a  miserable  childhood,  both 
Astrid  and  I.'* 

The  captain  turned  his  eyes  to  his  daughter. 
"Astrid,  do  you  hear  that?" 
1  The  young  girl  stood  leaning  against  the 
wall,  pale  and  trembling.  It  seemed  to  her 
that  her  mother  was  near  her,  and  she  uncon- 
sciously stretched  out  her  hands  for  invisible 
aid. 

"Astrid!"  repeated  the  old  man.  "Do  you 
hear  that?"  But  she  only  closed  her  eyes  to 
avoid  his. 

At  this  the  captain  fell  back  a  step,  feeling 
with  outstretched  hand  for  a  chair  to  lean 
upon,  and  gazed  from  one  to  the  other  of  the 
two  children  who  seemed  to  have  conspired 
against  him. 

"Has  it  never  occurred  to  you,  father,  that 
you  have  ill-used  us?"  continued  the  young 


Life  257 

man.  "When  we  were  little  we  were  never  al- 
lowed to  play,  or  laugh,  or  sing,  or  be  children. 
We  were  to  feel  your  sorrows,  hate  your  ene- 
mies, feel  sorry  for  you,  and  become  this  thing 
or  the  other,  so  that  you  should  have  your 
revenge  and  satisfaction.  There  was  never  any 
sunshine  for  us.  I  turned  out  as  might  have 
been  expected ;  there's  nothing  more  to  be  said 
about  that.  But  now  there's  Astrid!" 

"Ivar!"  broke  in  the  young  girl;  but  she  put 
her  arm  about  her  brother,  as  if  seeking  his 
protection;  and  once  more  the  old  man  re- 
treated before  them. 

"Astrid!"  he  cried  in  a  trembling  voice,  as 
if  he  could  not  yet  believe  it.  "Astrid,  do  you 
hear  what  he  says?" 

Captain  Riis  was  accustomed  to  feel  him- 
self a  martyr,  and  at  war  with  heaven  and 
earth ;  but  that  he  himself  should  be  to  blame  ? 
His  feet  moved  mechanically,  as  if  he  no 
longer  dared  rely  upon  the  floor  he  stood  upon. 

"Astrid,  why  don't  you  answer  him?  Do 
you  hear,  my  child?  Have  I — have  I  been  so 
unkind  to  you?" 

The  young  girl  trembled  and  closed  her 


258  Life 

eyes,  and  again  her  hand  moved  as  if  seeking 
a  support  that  no  one  else  could  see. 

There  was  a  coldness  about  these  two,  they 
were  strangers,  indeed  they  were  enemies ;  and 
now  the  captain  had  to  sit  down  because  the 
room  began  to  go  round.  He  put  his  hand 
over  his  eyes  to  wake  himself.  He  passed  it 
over  his  thin  grey  hair,  as  if  he  expected  it 
had  turned  white.  He  tried  to  laugh,  but  it  was 
half  a  sob,  tried  to  rise,  but  found  it  difficult. 
When  at  last  he  stood  up,  he  leaned  one  hand 
on  the  back  of  a  chair  for  support,  and  with 
the  other  eased  his  collar  to  make  breathing 
easier,  and  at  last  got  out  the  words : 

"Oh  indeed!  That— that's  enough!"  Then 
he  turned  to  go  to  his  room,  but  at  the  door 
half  turned,  leaned  against  the  frame  and 
stood  erect. 

He  meant  to  have  said  "good-bye,"  but  the 
word  would  not  come.  There  must  be  some 
mistake.  He  must  lower  himself  so  far  as  to 
say  a  few  words  in  self-defence  to  his  own 
children. 

"Well,"  he  began,  as  if  talking  to  the  room 
— "well,  there  may  possibly  seem  to  have  been 


Life  259 

little  sunshine  here,  that's  quite  true.  You 
two  have  not  had  things  like  others  of  your 
own  age.  But  what  about  me?  Has  no  one 
ill-used  me?  Great  heavens,  have  I  been  al- 
lowed to  live  my  own  life  ?  I  was  once  a  young, 
ambitious  lieutenant,  who  dreamt  of  rising 
high;  but  I  had  to  bring  my  education  to  an 
end  and  take  a  post  as  civilian,  because  my 
mother  and  brothers  and  sisters  had  to  be  pro- 
vided for.  Afterwards  it  was  your  mother 
and  you  two.  My  school-fellows  could  go  on 
with  their  special  subjects  and  get  promoted; 
but  I  was  left  behind,  for  I  had  first  of  all  to 
earn  money — always  more,  always  more.  And 
what  did  I  get  in  return?  I  sacrificed  my 
youth,  my  career,  my  happiness,  and  what  did 
I  get  in  return?  Your  mother — well,  peace 
be  with  her.  And  you  two?  You,  Astrid,  I 
thought — but  there!  You — you  too  stand 
there  and  call  me  a  criminal !  And  what  is  my 
life  then?  Is  it  sunshine?  Ha,  ha,  ha!"  He 
laughed  a  dismal  laugh.  "Well,  perhaps  I 
am  one  of  those  people  who  are  only  born  to 
be  trampled  upon;  but  it's  not  so  easy  to  be 
content  with  it."  His  head  dropped  on  his 


260  Life 

breast;  it  seemed  as  if  he  were  ashamed  to 
stand  and  lay  his  soul  bare  before  his  children. 

"Father!"  cried  Astrid,  going  to  him  and 
throwing  her  arms  round  his  neck.  The  old 
man  clasped  her  to  him  with  a  sob,  though  he 
smiled,  for  he  had  got  back  his  daughter.  But 
the  younger  man,  who  was  himself  shaken  with 
emotion,  felt  that  his  sister  had  now  lost  her 
foothold,  and  must  be  helped. 

"I  know  you've  had  a  hard  time,  father,"  he 
said  respectfully,  going  nearer.  "And  I've — 
I've  much  to  ask  your  pardon  for.  But  it  was 
about  Astrid — " 

"Ivar!"  said  the  young  girl  beseechingly. 

"Astrid?"  repeated  the  old  man,  putting  his 
hand  on  his  daughter's  head.  "What  about 
you,  child?" 

Summoning  up  all  his  courage,  the  younger 
man  replied:  "She's  engaged." 

"Ivar,  Ivar!" 

The  old  man  looked  from  one  to  the  other. 
"Engaged?"  he  repeated. 

"Yes,  and  you  must  not  oppose  rE,  father." 

"I?" — the  captain  still  understood  nothing 
— "No,  of  course  not,  but — " 


Life  261 

"She  didn't  dare  tell  you." 

The  old  man  again  looked  at  his  daughter, 
who  now  drew  away  from  him.  "Is  it  true, 
Astrid?  But  why — who  is  he?" 

"It's  Reidar  Bang,  son  of  the  general,"  said 
her  brother  retreating  a  step. 

"Ivar!"  groaned  the  young  girl  and  fled  to 
the  door. 

"Who  did  you  say  it  was?"  The  old  man 
came  a  step  nearer,  and  seemed  not  to  have 
heard  correctly. 

"A  son  of  General  Bang;  and  that's  why  she 
didn't  dare  tell  you,"  repeated  Ivar,  as  he 
once  more  prevented  his  sister  from  running 
away.  There  was  a  pause,  and  the  captain 
stared  at  his  daughter,  who  crouched  together 
at  the  door. 

"Astrid!"  he  said  at  last.  "Do  you  hear 
what  he  says?" 

"Yes,  father,"  she  replied,  recovering  her- 
self at  last,  but  looking  involuntarily  at  her 
hands. 

"Bang,  did  you  say?"  And  he  trembled  so 
that  he  had  to  cling  to  the  door-frame.  "Are 
you  engaged  to  him?" 


262  Life 

"Yes,  father."  She  looked  at  her  father 
with  wide-open  eyes,  as  if  expecting  some- 
thing to  happen ;  but  the  old  man  did  not  fall 
to  the  floor. 

"Astrid!"  he  said  beseechingly.  "Don't 
make  fun  of  me.  Say  it  isn't  true !" 

"It  is  true  father,"  she  whispered,  closing 
her  eyes. 

Ivar  now  took  up  his  hat  and  turned  to  go ; 
but  at  the  door  he  stopped.  "If  Astrid  is  to 
live  her  own  life,  father,"  he  said,  "it  must  be 
now.  If  you  want  her  to  be  happy,  you  must 
give  her  leave." 

The  captain  still  tried  not  to  believe  it.  "But 
dear  me,  child,  you  don't  know  any  of  the 
family!" 

Astrid,  who  had  so  often  said  what  was  not 
true  on  this  subject,  felt  relieved  at  being  able 
to  speak  out. 

"Yes,  father,  I've  often  met  him.  I've 
stayed  at  the  general's,  and  his  daughter  has 
been  my  best  friend  for  a  long  time." 

The  old  man's  head  dropped  upon  his  breast 
and  he  shrank  together  as  if  he  had  been 
struck.  So  it  was  true;  the  last  light  was  ex- 


Life  263 

tinguished,  and  these  children,  to  whom  he  had 
just  confessed  his  failings,  had  betrayed  him 
and  gone  over  to  the  enemy. 

He  advanced  a  couple  of  paces,  seized  a 
chair,  and  raising  it,  brought  it  down  so  forci- 
bly upon  the  floor  that  the  back  gave  way. 
"Very  well,"  he  cried,  beginning  to  laugh 
again.  "Then  go  to  the  general!  Go,  Astrid!" 
And  hastening  to  the  door,  he  opened  it,  then 
on  to  the  hall-door  and  opened  that,  shouting, 
beside  himself  with  rage:  "Go!  Go!  Go!" 

Astrid  managed  to  get  hold  of  her  hat,  and 
ran  with  her  brother  down  the  stairs.  In  the 
entry  at  the  bottom  they  paused  for  a  moment 
and  looked  at  one  another.  "I  managed  it!" 
said  the  young  man,  his  thoughts  on  his  own 
share  in  the  matter.  "But  it  wasn't  easy!" 

Astrid  put  on  her  hat,  and  they  went  into 
the  street.  The  sun  was  shining,  and  for  a 
moment  seemed  to  dazzle  them. 

"Where  will  you  go  now,  Astrid?" 

"I — I  shall  go  up  to  father." 

"Indeed  you  shan't!  You  must  promise  me 
you'll  go  to  Reidar  Bang,  indeed  I'll  go  with 
you.  I'll  get  a  cab." 


264  Life 

"No,  no,  I'd  rather  come  down  to  the  boat 
with  you.  There'll  be  nobody  coming  to  say 
goodbye  to  you,  I  suppose." 

They  got  into  a  cab,  and  for  the  first  and 
last  time  the  brother  and  sister  drove  together 
through  the  noisy  town.  Then  among  busy 
dock-labourers  and  a  crowd  of  people,  they 
bade  each  other  goodbye,  and  Astrid  clung  to 
her  brother  with  her  arms  about  his  neck. 

"Goodbye,  my  dear  girl.  Thanks  for  all  the 
food  you've  smuggled  into  me."  He  tried  to 
laugh. 

"Write  often,  Ivar;  and  promise  me  you'll 
behave." 

Then  they  parted,  but  as  he  was  going  on 
board  he  heard  her  voice  again,  and  turned 
back. 

"Look  here !"  she  said,  putting  a  little  locket 
into  his  hand.  "It's  mother's." 

"No,  Astrid,  it's  yours." 

"You  take  it  now.  I've  nothing  else  to  give 
you.  And  think  of  her  and  me."  She  tried 
to  smile  through  her  tears,  then  turned  and 
hurried  away  through  the  crowd. 


Life  265 

The  Bang  family  had  just  moved  in  from 
the  country,  and  the  two  old  people  were  sit- 
ting alone  late  that  evening,  when  the  bell 
rang.  A  little  while  after  there  was  a  tap  at 
the  door.  "Come  inf  cried  the  general,  rais- 
ing his  eyes  from  his  book.  The  door  opened, 
and  Reidar  pushed  the  bashful  young1  girl 
before  him  into  the  room. 

"Here  I  come  with  my  sweetheart,"  he  said. 
"And  perhaps  mother  and  father  will  give 
her  house-room  for  a  time." 

A  couple  of  hours  later  Astrid  was  lying 
in  a  large  well-lighted  room,  and  Fru  Bang 
sat  by  the  bedside,  stroking  her  cheek  and  tell- 
ing her  that  all  would  be  well.  The  young 
girl  smiled  and  sobbed  both  at  once.  She 
could  not  forget  the  sight  of  the  coffee  stand- 
ing ready  out  in  the  little  kitchen  at  home, 
and  that  it  had  not  been  taken  into  the  draw- 
ing-room. Everything  had  been  left  as  if 
there  had  been  a  sudden  fire  in  the  house. 
Here  she  lay  in  one  of  Inga's  nightdresses. 
What  had  her  father  done?  By  this  time  her 
brother  was  far  out  on  the  fjord,  and  she 
would  never  see  him  again.  And  in  the  midst 


266  Life 

of  all  these  dreadful  things  she  had  spent  some 
hours  with  Reidar — at  last,  at  last !  And  now 
she  was  here,  and  they  were  all  trying  to  see 
who  could  show  her  most  kindness.  Was  it 
all  a  dream,  another  of  her  visions? 

The  end  of  it  was  that  Inga's  bed  had  to  be 
moved  into  her  room,  as  she  was  afraid  to  sleep 
by  herself. 

When  all  the  others  had  retired  for  the 
night,  the  general  was  still  walking  up  and 
down  on  the  thick  carpet  in  the  drawing-room. 
Now  and  then  he  stopped  to  listen,  as  if  he 
expected  he  might  hear  the  breathing  of  the 
young,  beautiful  woman  who  had  been  wafted 
so  suddenly  into  his  house. 

How  exactly  she  resembled  her  mother! 
And  how  time  passes ! 


XIV 

EARLY  the  next  morning  the  general  sent 
the  following  letter  to  Captain  Riis: 

"My  dear  comrade, 

It  looks  as  if  we  were  going  to  the  manoeu- 
vres again  together.  May  I  report  myself  at 
your  service  today  at  one  o'clock?" 

At  the  appointed  time  he  walked  with  his 
usual  easy  gait  through  the  street.  He  could 
not  possibly  take  the  eccentric  old  man  very 
seriously ;  and  he  had  nothing  to  reproach  him- 
self with.  A  man  hungers  for  life  and  work, 
and  rushes  about  from  one  thing  to  another; 
and  now  and  then  he  meets  with  a  little  ad- 
venture, which  he  takes  discreetly  and  then 
hastens  elsewhere,  because  duty  calls  him. 
Who  can  say  he  has  not  done  so?  Perhaps 
some  one  or  other  suffers  for  it ;  but  that  a  man 
who  is  worth  anything  can  sit  down  and  stare 
at  a  little  suspicion,  even  engage  it  as  his 
companion  for  years  and  years — no,  the  gen- 

267 


268  Life 

eral  could  not  understand  that,  he  could  not 
possibly  take  it  seriously,  and  now  he  was  go- 
ing to  let  a  little  fresh  air  into  the  old  hermit's 
abode. 

Astrid  had  lain  awake  for  a  long  time,  but 
after  her  great  excitement  she  was  thoroughly 
worn  out,  and  went  on  sleeping  and  sleeping. 
When  at  last  she  opened  her  eyes,  the  room 
was  full  of  sunshine,  and  Fru  Bang  was, 
standing  beside  her,  smiling. 

"Well,  I'm  glad  you've  slept  so  well,  my 
child,"  said  the  pretty,  white-haired  old  lady. 
Astrid  sat  up  in  bewilderment.  What  had 
happened?  Where  was  she? 

"Reidar  was  here  early,  and  has  telephoned 
several  times  since;  but  I  told  him  that  a 
newly-engaged  girl  needs  sleep." 

"What  time  is  it?" 

"Oh,  only  twelve,  or  perhaps  a  little  past 
one ;  but  you  may  go  to  sleep  again  if  you  like, 
child." 

It  was  strange,  this  getting  up.  ,She  felt 
as  if  she  were  in  a  calm  after  a  storm,  but  that 
something  would  soon  break  out  again.  She 
had  dreamt  of  becoming  a  daughter-in-law  of 


Life  269 

this  house,  and  now  here  she  was;  and  yet  she 
looked  about  her  as  at  a  strange  place.  What 
was  the  matter?  She  was  told  that  Reidar 
had  already  given  notice  to  her  employers  that 
she  would  not  be  returning  to  the  office,  so  she 
would  not  have  to  dress  in  a  hurry  to  be  off, 
nor  light  the  kitchen  fire,  nor  lay  the  table 
and  make  the  beds,  nor  wash  up.  She  was  free 
at  last — free!  And  yet  there  was  something 
wrong. 

Fru  Bang  left  her  and  half  an  hour  later, 
when  Astrid  went  down  and  entered  the  large, 
bright  corner-room,  she  found  herself  in  the 
midst  of  a  family  conclave,  consisting  of 
Reidar  himself,  his  parents,  Fru  Ramm  and 
Inga.  There  was  a  dead  silence  when  she 
entered.  "Here  she  isl"  said  the  general,  has- 
tening towards  her  and  putting  an  arm  round 
her  waist.  "Now  let's  hear  what  she  thinks!" 
said  Reidar,  taking  both  her  hands  in  his; 
Astrid  did  not  look  as  if  she  had  any  opinion, 
but  seemed  inclined  rather  to  take  flight.  Fru 
Ramm  got  up,  smoothed  down  her  well-fitting 
skirt,  and  looked  with  a  little  astonishment  at 
Astrid's  faded  cotton  dress,  but  then  went  up 


270  Life 

to  her  and  kissed  her,  saying:  "Welcome  into 
the  family!  So  it  was  you  who  were  to  turn 
Reidar's  head  at  last,  was  it?" 

"Your  fiance's  so  impatient,  Astrid,"  said 
Fru  Bang.  "He  wants  to  get  married  this 
very  day,  and  he  won't  understand  that  it 
wouldn't  be  decent  before  a  month  at  least." 

Astrid,  who  had  seated  herself  on  a  chair, 
now  looked  down  and  blushed. 

"Well,  we  were  engaged  for  two  years," 
said  Fru  Ramm  glancing  in  the  mirror  to  ar- 
range the  veil  round  her  hat. 

"And  Henrik  and  I !"  added  Inga,  evidently 
not  liking  that  things  should  be  made  so  much 
smoother  for  her  friend. 

Reidar  stood  beside  Astrid,  with  his  hand 
on  the  back  of  her  chair.  "Well,  it's  a  good 
thing  to  receive  good  advice,"  he  said  smiling. 

Fru  Ramm  and  Inga  exchanged  glances, 
understanding  that  they  must  not  interfere 
any  more  in  the  matter. 

"But  first  of  all,  Astrid,"  said  Fru  Bang, 
smiling  a  little  uncertainly.  "We  must  try 
to  come  to  an  arrangement  with  your  father." 


Life  271 

The  young  girl's  head  sank  lower,  and  she  hid 
her  face  in  her  hands. 

"Excuse  me,  mother,  but  I  would  suggest 
that  Astrid  has  a  little  breakfast,"  said  Reidar, 
knowing  that  she  must  feel  as  if  she  had  been 
dragged  into  court;  and  he  gave  her  his  arm 
and  led  her  into  the  dining-room,  where  a  meal 
was  laid  for  one.  "Now,  then,  eat  away,  and 
leave  everything  else  to  me.  Did  you  sleep 
well?"  he  asked,  bending  back  her  head,  and 
kissing  her  eyes. 

She  did  not  answer,  but  sat  down  and  tried 
to  eat,  while  he  went  round  the  table  and 
smiled  at  her  from  one  side.  Fancy!  She 
used  her  knife  and  fork  like  any  ordinary  per- 
son! And  when  she  chewed  her  food,  her  cheek 
bulged  out  on  one  side,  just  like  other  people's! 
She  threw  side-glances  at  him  too,  and  smiled 
a  little  anxiously.  For  weeks  they  had  both 
been  making  pictures  of  one  another  in  their 
own  minds,  and  it  did  not  follow  that  they 
were  correct.  They  were  suddenly  engaged, 
these  two. 

He  pressed  her  to  eat,  and  sat  down  beside 
her.  At  last  she  was  sitting  in  his  parents* 


272  Life 

house!  Her  hands  were  still  red,  and  he  was 
angry  when  he  felt  a  lump  rise  in  his  throat. 
A  hum  of  voices  came  from  the  next  room,  and 
it  disturbed  him.  He  would  go  in  and  put 
an  end  to  it. 

"The  only  thing  is,"  Fru  Bang  was  saying 
as  he  entered,  "what  shall  we  say  to  people? 
Astrid  is  heartily  welcome  here,  but  of  course 
every  one  knows  that  until  now  she's  lived 
with  her  father,  and  how  shall  we  explain — " 

"I'll  tell  you  how,  mother,"  said  Reidar. 
I'll  take  Astrid  with  me  to  the  magistrate  this 
very  morning,  and  then  we'll  go  back  to  my 
house  a  married  couple;  and  you  can  sit  here 
and  wonder  what  people  will  say."  His 
freckled  face  was  quite  red  now,  and  his  eyes 
not  in  the  least  sleepy.  Did  they  think  they 
could  forbid  him  to  marry? 

"Now,  now  Reidar  1"  said  his  mother. 
"Don't  be  so  hasty!  Isn't  that  just  like  you!" 

Fru  Ramm  and  Inga  smiled  at  one  another. 

"Well,  I  agree  with  Reidar!"  said  the  gen- 
eral suddenly,  rising.  "We  can  surely  be  al- 
lowed to  have  a  daughter-in-law  staying  in  the 
house  without  having  to  account  to  all  the 


Life  273 


world  for  it.  And  as  for  that  old  curmudgeon 
— I've  gone  once  to  Canossa,  and  confound 
it,  I'm  not  going  to  do  it  again!  The  girl's  of 
age.  Give  the  old  man  three  weeks,  and  if  he 
hasn't  capitulated  then,  just  have  the  wedding 
and  say  he's  dead,  and  there's  an  end  of  it." 

"Very  well,  then  that's  settled,"  said  Fru 
Bang.  But  Inga  pursed  up  her  lips  into  a 
grimace,  and  hurried  out. 

Astrid  could  not  rest,  and  persuaded  Reidar 
to  go  at  once  with  her  to  her  father,  for  the 
worst  might  have  happened  since  yesterday. 
So  for  the  first  time  the  two  young  people 
walked  together  through  the  town,  the  well- 
dressed  young  man  making  a  great  contrast 
to  the  young  girl  in  her  faded  straw  hat  and 
cotton  dress;  she  might  have  been  his  maid- 
servant. 

"If  we  only  knew  what  there  was  between 
our  fathers,"  said  Reidar. 

"Yes.  I  suppose  you  couldn't  very  well  ask 
your  father?" 

"No.  I  couldn't.  In  some  matters  he's  a 
little  difficult  to  approach." 

Soon  they  were  standing  ringing  at  the 


274  Life 

door  through  which  Astrid  had  so  often  en- 
tered with  her  own  key.  The  bell  sounded  as 
if  the  house  were  empty,  but  the  porter  had 
told  them  that  the  captain  had  not  been  out. 
They  rang  again  and  again,  ready  to  go  in, 
hand  in  hand,  to  the  old  man;  but  there  was 
no  sign  of  any  living  being.  At  last  Astrid 
turned,  pale  and  frightened,  to  Reidar,  and 
he  understood  her.  "We  must  wait  till  to- 
morrow," he  said.  "Then  if  the  worst  comes 
to  the  worst,  we  must  burst  open  the  door." 

The  next  day,  however,  they  met  the  old 
charwoman  on  the  stairs.  She  told  them  that 
as  she  went  up  the  stairs  that  morning,  the 
captain  was  just  opening  his  letter-box,  and 
he  asked  her  to  go  out  and  get  him  something 
to  eat.  She  was  engaged  to  come  and  look 
after  him  now,  but  she  was  strictly  forbidden 
to  let  any  one  in. 

"How  is  he?" 

"Oh,  he's  better  now,  since  he's  had  some- 
thing to  eat.  He's  shaved  too,  and  now  he's 
sitting  turning  over  the  pages  of  a  big  manu- 
script." 

It  was  an  indescribable  relief  to  Astrid.  The 


Life  275 

worst  had  not  happened.  He  was  walking 
about,  had  engaged  some  one  to  look  after  him, 
had  eaten,  and  had  begun  to  work.  As  soon 
as  they  reached  a  secluded  corner  of  the  stairs, 
she  threw  her  arms  round  Reidar's  neck,  say- 
ing: "Now  it'll  be  all  right  again,  you'll  see!" 

Reidar  too  felt  relieved,  and  on  the  way 
home  said: 

"We'll  go  and  buy  some  flowers  for  mother, 
for  I  was  rather  hard  on  her  yesterday,  and 
then  you  must  come  with  me  to  grandmother's. 
You  don't  know  how  pleased  she'll  be.  And 
that'll  be  the  only  visit  we'll  make." 

So  the  captain  was  left  in  peace  for  a  little 
while,  and  in  the  meantime  Astrid  tried  to  be 
happy  and  hope  that  things  would  turn  out  all 
right.  But  although  one  anxiety  was  removed, 
another  took  its  place.  "Holth!"  sang  always 
in  her  ears.  "Are  you  going  to  tell  Reidar 
everything  now?"  No,  no,  she  dared  not;  it 
would  be  risking  everything.  But  could  she 
have  a  single  happy  day  if  she  kept  on  deceiv- 
ing him?  No,  but  could  she  not  put  off  doing 
it  now?  "And  if  he  gets  to  know  of  it  in  some 
other  way,"  she  thought.  "Well,  then  every- 


276  Life 

thing  would  be  over,  and  it  will  be  with  me  as 
it  was  with  mother.  But  perhaps  it  will  be 
some  time  before  the  dreadful  thing  happens, 
and  until  then  I'll  be  happy  for  once,  too." 

She  was  accustomed  to  carry  about  a  secret 
pain  that  no  one  must  see,  and  the  continual 
fear  only  made  her  cling  the  closer  to  Reidar. 
She  really  did  not  know  him.  Now  she  was 
so  near  him,  he  was  not  altogether  what  she 
had  thought  him.  His  voice  was  different,  his 
glance,  his  chin,  his  mouth.  In  her  thoughts 
she  had  always  pictured  him  on  skis,  as  he  had 
been  that  Easter;  and  gradually  he  had  come 
to  represent  all  that  she  had  missed,  play,  free- 
dom, the  blue  sky,  and  he  even  became  the 
standard  of  a  tremendous  obstinacy  that  gave 
her  a  delightful  feeling  of  dizziness.  But  nowl 
Why,  he  could  sing,  and  talk  about  art!  He 
had  had  to  begin  as  a  barber  in  America,  and 
had  frozen  and  starved  in  Klondyke — he,  the 
general's  son !  He  took  her  to  church,  not  to 
hear  the  priest,  but  the  singing  and  the  organ. 
He  was  quick  to  become  angry,  and  it  was 
quickly  over;  but  he  tried  to  hide  both  condi- 
tions. She  never  seemed  to  come  to  the  end 


Life  277 

of  him,  and  when  she  was  more  than  usually 
anxious,  he  was  more  than  a  human  being  to 
her;  he  was  for  her  the  bright  life  to  which 
she  clung. 

Just  because  she  had  a  feeling  that  it  would 
all  soon  come  to  an  end,  the  days  that  followed 
were  wonderfully  full.  To  wake  in  the  morn- 
ing and  say  to  herself:  "You're  not  going  to 
the  office,  nor  into  the  kitchen;  you're  free — 
free!  It's  certain  you'll  get  no  scolding  to- 
day! It's  Reidar,"  she  thought,  and  would 
have  liked  to  embrace  him  there  and  then. 
Was  it  not  nice  to  call  every  little  pleasure 
by  his  name?  To  have  early  morning  coffee, 
and  then  be  lazy  a  little  longer,  because  there 
was  nothing  she  was  obliged  to  get  up  for. 
To  go  into  the  big  bathroom,  and  do  gymnas- 
tics before  the  open  window,  take  a  cold 
shower-bath  and  then  towel  herself  until  the 
skin  was  red.  Thank  goodness,  she  thought, 
as  she  looked  at  her  shapely  limbs,  "I'm  just 
as  strong  now  as  I  was  when  I  was  in  the  gym- 
nastic-class. The  warm,  comfortable  glow 
afterwards,  filled  her  mind  with  thoughts  of 
an  open-air  life  in  wind  and  sunshine.  It  was 


278  Life 

Reidar,  she  thought  again,  with  a  smile.  In 
her  room  where  all  the  paint  was  white,  when 
she  drew  back  the  yellow  curtains,  she  no 
longer  saw  sooty  walls,  but  only  yellowing 
tree-tops,  and  beyond,  the  fjord.  The  sun 
shone  upon  her,  and  she  let  her  dressing-gown 
drop,  and  turned  round  and  round  in  the 
bright  light.  It  was  Reidar  again.  "Did  you 
do  this,  mother,  that  time?" 

She  had  never  dreamt  it  could  be  such  a 
pleasure  to  dress  herself,  but  now  everything 
she  put  on  was  perfectly  new  and  clean. 
Strangely  disguised  parcels  were  always  be- 
ing brought  her  by  Fru  Bang.  There  was  a 
superabundance  and  it  would  have  been  pain- 
ful to  have  received  it  all,  if  she  had  not  sus- 
pected from  whom  it  really  came.  He  might 
transform  her  as  much  as  he  liked;  it  all,  and 
she  herself,  belonged  to  him.  Her  hands 
touched  everything  caressingly  before  she  put 
it  on.  But  in  the  midst  of  all  her  joy,  a  fear 
would  dart  in.  "Father  left  alone  in  pov- 
erty!" She  would  write  to  him.  "But  Holth! 
If  Reidar  knew !"  It  was  as  if  she  were  hold- 


Life  279 

ing  roses  in  her  hands  and  they  suddenly 
pricked  them  and  made  them  bleed. 

Well,  it  would  all  soon  be  at  an  end,  but 
for  that  very  reason  every  little  thing  was  won- 
derfully delightful.  Those  long  stockings,  for 
instance,  they  must  be  silk;  there  was  such  a 
pleasant  feeling  when  she  drew  them  on.  It 
was  Reidar  she  whispered,  trembling,  she 
knew  not  why,  and  with  beating  heart.  All 
her  garments,  and  the  pretty  shoes,  were  all 
something  of  Reidar  in  which  she  clothed  her- 
self. When  she  moved,  their  touch  upon  her 
body  was  like  tiny  caresses,  and  a  wave  of 
feeling  rose  within  her,  and  her  eyes  dropped. 
Then  she  stood  before  the  mirror  and  put  up 
her  yellow  hair;  but  where  have  all  these  new 
brushes  with  tortoise-shell  backs  come  from? 
On  her  dressing-table  lay  a  whole  world  of 
combs,  and  boxes,  and  bottles,  and  all  the 
thousand  and  one  things  that  are  woman's  se- 
cret; and  involuntarily  she  smiled  at  her  re- 
flection in  the  mirror. 

The  morning  was  passing,  however,  and 
downstairs  the  general  would  suddenly  rush 
in  from  the  study  with  his  pen  behind  his  ear, 


280  Life 

to  ask  whether  the  child  were  not  up  yet.  "No," 
said  his  wife.  "You  said  yourself  that  she 
was  to  think  of  nothing  but  eating  and  sleep- 
ing." Yes,  yes,  of  course,  he  had  said  so,  and 
yet  he  waited  about  impatiently.  "What  do 
you  think  of  her,  Marie?"  he  asked,  stopping 
in  front  of  his  wife,  who  sat  sewing  with  spec- 
tacles on.  After  a  slight  pause,  she  answered: 
"Oh,  well,  it's  easy  to  see  she's  never  had  any 
real  home ;  but  we  must  hope  for  the  best." 

"I'm  thinking  of 'taking  her  for  a  drive  to- 
day. You  others  monopolise  her  altogether." 
And  he  trotted  up  and  down  qaite  angrily. 
"Yes,"  said  his  wife,  smiling.  "It's  easy  to 
see  you're  in  love  with  her."  "Of  course,  I'm 
in  love  with  her!  And  it  does  one  good  too; 
it  makes  one  feel  quite  young." 

Before  they  had  paid  their  visit  to  the  old- 
est member  of  the  family,  the  old  lady  herself 
came  in  one  day,  with  stick  in  hand,  and 
paused  in  the  middle  of  the  room.  "Well, 
what's  going  on  here?"  she  said.  "Is  it  that 
young  woman?"  And  she  turned  her  long- 
handled  glasses  upon  Astrid.  "Oh,  so  that's 
what  the  girl's  like  who's  at  last  bewitched 


Life  281 

that  obstinate  boy.  She's  got  red  hair,  and  so 
has  he.  There'll  be  a  beautiful  collection  in 
this  house  in  time."  Then  she  sat  down,  and 
pointing  to  a  chair  beside  her,  said:  "Come 
here,  child,  and  let  us  have  a  little  talk  to- 
gether." 

It  was  wonderful  to  become  all  at  once  a 
daughter  in  a  wealthy  house.  They  were  at 
her  beck  and  call  because  she  was  Reidar's 
fiancee;  and  at  the  same  time  it  was  strange 
how  they  spoke  of  him.  "My  extraordinary 
son,"  the  general  would  say  with  an  ironical 
smile.  When  Inga  mentioned  him  she  often 
laughed.  His  mother  shook  her  head  and 
smiled.  But  no  sooner  did  he  enter  than  they 
all  flocked  about  him. 

The  time  for  the  wedding  was  drawing  near, 
and  according  to  custom,  it  should  have  been 
held  at  the  house  of  the  bride's  father!  But 
Astrid's  father!  The  whole  of  her  trousseau 
she  had  to  take  from  her  parents-in-law.  It 
was  a  little  humiliating,  but  she  hoped  it  wuold 
all  be  paid  for  by  Reidar.  She  went  with 
Fru  Bang  to  costumiers  where  she  chose  ma- 
terials without  regard  to  their  price,  and  tried 


282  Life 

on  dresses  so  beautiful  that  she  hardly  dared 
touch  them.  It  was  like  a  fairy-tale,  and  so 
overpowered  her  that  she  would  have  liked  to 
hide  herself.  The  general,  who  was  always 
covertly  watching  her,  noticed  that  she  was 
undergoing  a  great  transformation.  Her  car- 
riage became  more  graceful,  her  step  lighter; 
her  voice  took  on  a  brighter  tone,  and  when 
she  raised  her  eyes  to  look  at  one,  it  was  with 
a  faint  beautiful  smile. 

"I  must  try  to  do  something  in  return," 
she  thought,  and  fortunately  she  had  had  a 
few  krones  in  her  purse  when  she  left  home 
so  hurriedly.  She  had  earned  them  honestly, 
and  they  were  just  sufficint  to  buy  a  white 
waistcoat  for  Reidar  and  a  cloth  for  Fru 
Bang.  She  would  embroider  them  both  her- 
self, the  cloth  in  the  morning,  when  she  sat 
with  Fru  Bang  and  Inga,  but  the  waistcoat 
only  came  out  when  she  was  alone  at  night. 
As  she  sat  working  this  for  her  lover,  every 
stitch  seemed  something  between  them.  But 
often  a  fear  would  start  up  within  her,  and 
her  hands  would  tremble. 

She  had  not  written  to  her  father  yet.   She 


Life  283 

went  on  hoping  that  things  would  right  them- 
selves. Perhaps  he  would  come  himself.  But 
every  day  she  hurried  up  the  back  stair  to 
hold  a  whispered  conversation  with  the  old 
charwoman.  Things  seemed  to  be  going  on 
all  right,  and  it  was  a  comfort  to  her  to  be  able 
to  send  in  something  nice  for  him  to  eat. 

Reidar  had  to  put  up  with  a  good  deal  of 
teasing  from  his  friends  at  this  time.  "Here 
comes  the  woman-hater!"  they  would  say. 
"Yes,  you  are  right;  woman  is  the  very  devil!" 
But  Reidar  would  smile  and  hurry  on  with  a 
wave  of  the  hand.  He  was  not  one  to  neglect 
his  business  because  he  happened  to  be  going 
to  be  married;  but  the  worst  of  it  was  that  he 
often  had  to  tear  up  a  long  business-letter,  be- 
cause some  ridiculous  lyric  had  slipped  into 
it.  What  was  still  worse  was  that  he  forgot 
his  horse,  so  that  it  stood  in  the  stable  for  three 
days  without  exercise.  While  going  through 
his  gymnastic  exercises  in  the  morning,  he 
would  remember  something  that  might  be 
made  prettier  downstairs  before  Astrid  came, 
and  he  would  leave  off  and  run  down  to  see. 
It  vexed  him  greatly,  and  he  often  swore  mild- 


284.  Life 

ly  at  himself,  and  called  himself  an  idiot.  What 
was  the  good  now  of  being  afraid  that  he 
might  have  ventured  out  into  pure  gambling 
in  his  business?  He  would  be  careful  now, 
and  remember  tha;t  he  was  responsible  for 
others  beside  himself.  All  his  thoughts  were 
centered  on  bringing  things  safely  to  land  and 
being  wise.  But  was  it  not  only  nonsense? 
He  must  not  let  the  girl  make  him  a  coward? 
And  yet  he  was  much  better  than  he  had  been, 
and  he  no  longer  had  the  feeling  that  some- 
thing invisible  was  creeping  about  him  and 
trying  to  injure  him.  He  had  at  last  trodden 
it  underfoot;  he  had  triumphed,  he  was  free. 
Ah,  what  cannot  love  do! 

There  was  one  person,  however,  who  was 
not  happy  just  now,  and  that  was  Inga.  She 
had  to  appear  to  be  good  friends  with  Astrid 
again,  but  she  had  been  the  spoilt  child  of  the 
house,  and  now  she  was  always  being  pushed 
on  one  side.  It  was  nothing  but  Astrid  all 
day  long  now.  And  here  was  she  practising 
how  to  save  and  be  poor,  while  the  other  was 
actually  receiving  instruction  in  being  extrav- 
agant and  rich.  It  was  certainly  not  easy  to 


Life  285 

be  always  smiling  and  look  as  if  everything 
was  alright. 

Today  she  was  hastening  down  townwards 
to  meet  Henrik  as  he  came  from  his  office. 
Reidar's  motor-car  had  come  to  fetch  Astrid, 
but  she  would  not  accept  the  invitation  to  ride 
with  her — no,  thank  goodness,  she  had  feet  to 
walk  with !  No  one  knew  that  she  and  Henrik 
had  taken  a  small  flat  up  in  Homansby,  and 
£hat  it  was  almost  fcomplete.  Henrik  had 
made  most  of  the  furniture  himself.  It  had 
been  proposed  that  they  should  get  married  the 
same  day  as  Reidar,  but  Inga  had  emphat- 
ically refused;  she  would  not  be  tacked  on  to 
them  for  all  the  world,  and  they  had  now  de- 
cided to  be  married  at  a  registry  and  then  go 
home  quite  alone  and  have  dinner. 

There  he  was !  When  he  came  up,  she  took 
his  arm  and  they  went  off  together  without 
any  fixed  destination. 

"You're  so  pale  again  today,"  she  said. 
H]ave  you  been  disobedient  and  sitting  up 
last  night?" 

He  pushed  his  large  felt  hat  off  his  face 
and  smiled.  "Only  a  few  hours,"  he  said.  "I 


286  Life 

had  an  idea  the  other  day,  and  was  working  a 
little  at  it.  What  do  you  think  about  a  new 
laying-out  of  Kampen?  It's  a  miserable 
neighbourhood  now  with  its  alleys  and  huts 
and  all  manner  of  filth ;  but  it's  got  a  splendid 
situation,  and  some  day  there'll  be  broad  ave- 
nues with  fine  houses  and  gardens  and  foun- 
tains up  there.  Shall  we  go  up  now?" 

"I  don't  think  I've  got  time.  Oh  yes,  though, 
I  can  all  the  same." 

Formerly  his  brother  had  been  accustomed 
to  go  with  him  on  these  expeditions,  when  he 
went  about  with  his  ideas  of  transforming  the 
town  into  something  great  and  splendid;  but 
now  it  was  Inga,  and  the  young  girl  was  proud 
of  being  allowed  to  share  his  ideas,  eveiv 
though  it  sometimes  took  her  into  the  most 
evil-smelling  parts  of  the  town.  Now  and 
then  she  would  take  the  opportunity  and  get 
him  into  some  archway  to  give  him  a  kiss. 
And  when  he  came  to  the  end  of  a  long  expla- 
nation, she  would  say:  "And  when  are  we 
going  to  set  about  it  in  earnest?" 

There  was  a  little  pause  before  he  answered: 


Life  287 

"Well — that  is — well — it'll  scarcely  be  in  our 
time." 

"What?  Won't  it  be  in—?  Then  why  are 
you  bothering  about  it?" 

"It'll  be  done  some  day,  that  you  may  be 
sure  of.  The  idea's  there,  and  that's  the  chief 
thing." 

"But  dear  me,  we  can't  live  on  that,  we 
two!" 

"Oh,  nonsense!  It  won't  be  difficult  to 
scrape  together  enough  for  us  to  live  upon." 

"Well,  I  shan't  want  much,  Henrik."  And 
so  they  wandered  on,  beginning  another  ro- 
mance. 

The  last  Sunday  before  the  wedding,  Astrid 
and  Reidar  went  into  the  country  in  the  motor 
up  among  the  Bserum  Hills,  where  they  wan- 
dered about  in  the  woods  with  a  basket  be- 
tween them,  and  at  last  encamped  under  a 
tree.  Astrid  laid  out  a  little  lunch  upon  a 
spread-out  rug,  and  they  ate  and  drank  to 
one  another.  When  they  had  finished  and 
packed  everything  into  the  basket  again,  they 
shook  out  the  rug  and  then  lay  down  on  it 
side  by  side,  she  with  her  head  upon  his  shoul- 


288  Life 

der.  He  could  smell  the  perfume  of  her  hair, 
as  he  buried  his  face  in  it.  Over  the  tree-tops 
spread  the  blue  September  sky,  and  a  little 
way  off,  a  hawk  hovered  motionless  with  out- 
stretched wings. 

"Do  you  know,"  she  said  suddenly,  "I  really 
don't  know  you  at  all." 

"I've  thought  the  same  thing.  Even  when 
we're  together  we  don't  get  much  idea  of  one 
another." 

"Do  you  believe  in  fate?" 

He  kissed  her  closed  eyelids  and  answered: 
"I  believe  in  everything  and  nothing;  but  at 
any  rate  I  believe  in  you." 

"Is  it  true  that  you're  so  unmerciful  to- 
wards your  rivals?" 

"I'll  be  kinder  henceforward,"  he  answered, 
kissing  her  on  the  forehead.  She  opened  her 
eyes  and  her  hand  went  up  to  his  hair. 

"What  is  one  person  to  another?"  he  con- 
tinued. "If  we  could  accourit  for  that,  it 
would  be  incredible.  I  love  you,  but  who  can 
say  why.  Perhaps  you're  a  memory  for  me, 
a  little  bit  of  sunshine  or  shade,  a  glance,  a 
turn  of  the  head.  Or  perhaps  a  fear." 


Life  289 


"Or  a  bare  heel,  a  hole  in  a  stocking." 

"What?" 

"You  said  so  once.  I  conquered  you  by 
having  a  hole  in  my  stocking.  Deny  it  if  you 
can."  And  she  pricked  his  face  with  a  piece 
of  grass. 

"Do  you  know  it's  been  prophesied  that  a 
woman  will  be  my  ruin?" 

"Well,  here  she  is."  And  she  put  her  arm 
about  his  neck,  and  then,  burying  her  face  in 
his  breast,  she  said:  "Oh  Reidar,  Reidar,  you 
— you  must  bear  with  me." 

"Bear  with  you?  Oh  yes,  I  almost  think 
I  shall  be  able  to  manage  that." 

She  raised  her  head  again,  opened  her  eyes, 
and  looked  up  into  the  blue  sky. 

"We  shall  go  about  a  great  deal,  shan't  we? 
I'll  go  with  you  shooting  and  let  all  the  winds 
blow  right  through  me;  and  sailing  out  to  a 
far-off  island,  where  we  can  breathe  together 
and  let  the  wind  dry  us  as  we  lie  in  the  stiff 
sea-grass.  And  we'll  go  out  into  the  world 
and  see  all  the  beautiful  things  that  are  to  be 
seen."  And  she  closed  her  eyes  and  dreamt 


290  Life 

herself  away.  "Mother,"  she  said  to  herself. 
"What  do  you  say  to  that?" 

Suddenly  she  sat  up,  and  looked  at  him 
almost  in  fear.  "Suppose  anything  should 
come  in  the  way!" 

"In  the  way?" 

"Yes,  you  often  hear  of — of,  for  instance, 
the  bride  dying  the  day  before  the  wedding." 

"What  nonsense!  You've  said  that  once 
before." 

1  She  lay  down  again,  and  closed  her  eyes,  her 
hand  on  his  head.  She  still  had  him ;  he  knew 
nothing  yet.  It  was  as  though  she  lay  at  the 
bottom  of  a  boat,  drifting  down  a  beautiful 
river;  but  wher.e  was  it  going?  To  close  her 
eyes  and  let  it  go — yes,  but  suppose  the  roar 
of  a  waterfall  grew  louder  and  louder? 

"Which  of  your  friends  are  coming  to  the 
wedding?"  she  asked,  forcing  herself  to  be 
calm. 

He  mentioned  some  names;  there  were 
many.  Holth  was  among  them,  and  she  start- 
ed. 

"Is  he  coming  too?" 

"It's  not  certain  that  he  will.    He  answered 


Life  291 

so  strangely  that  I  think  he  probably  won't." 
She  lay  quiet  for  a  little  while.  A  shiver 
ran  through  her.  Suppose  this  with  Holth 
should  have  consequences  that  there  would  be 
no  hope  of  hiding!  The  possibility  cut  like  a 
knife.  If  it  happened,  then  it  meant  death. 
Was  this  the  terrible  thing  that  she  felt  coming 
upon  her?  She  opened  her  eyes,  but  what  she 
saw  was  not  the  trees  or  the  blue  sky.  It  was 
her  mother,  far  off  and  yet  near,  unreal  and 
yet  alive,  standing  smiling  at  her.  "That  is 
how  it  happened  with  me,  and  it  will  be  your 
fate  too.  Then  we  shall  be  together."  And 
the  white  figure  extended  her  arms. 

"What  are  you  thinking  about?"  asked 
Reidar,  turning  her  face  up  to  his.  And  again 
she  threw  her  arms  about  his  neck,  and  cling- 
ing to  him,  moaned:  "Reidar!  Reidar!" 


XV 

SINCE  Captain  Riis  had  been  alone,  much 
fiad  happened;  but  now  it  was  all  over  and 
he  began  to  be  quite  calm.  The  night  after 
his  children  had  gone,  he  wandered  about  in 
the  woods  outside  the  town.  Towards  morn- 
ing it  began  to  rain,  and  he  discovered  that  he 
had  lost  his  hat  and  had  only  slippers  on  his 
feet.  When  he  got  home  he  went  to  bed,  but 
felt  he  must  get  up  again.  While  he  was 
standing  gazing  down  into  the  yard,  a  man 
appeared  there.  What?  The  general!  Sat- 
isfaction! Begging  for  forgiveness!  Yes,  of 
course!  But  it  was  too  late  now.  The  bell 
rang.  He  got  into  bed  again.  It  rang  again. 
He  drew  the  clothes  over  his  head.  It  rang 
several  times.  Let  him  ring!  Later  in  the 
afternoon  the  bell  rang  again.  He  had  not 
seen  who  it  was  this  time,  but  he  guessed.  He 
was  still  in  bed,  and  did  not  get  up. 

Once  in  a  fight,  he  had  seen  a  man  struck 
down  to  the  ground  several  times,  but  each 

292 


Life  293 

time  getting  up  to  strike  back,  and  each  time 
paler  and  bloodier.  He  got  up  on  to  his 
knees,  but  was  struck  down;  he  raised  himself 
on  his  elbow  and  received  another  blow;  at 
last  he  only  raised  his  head,  still  with  the  hope 
of  revenge  in  the  dull  eyes,  but  the  strokes 
were  merciless.  He  was  an  old,  grey-haired 
man.  Captain  Riis  had  also  again  and  again 
been  struck  to  the  earth,  and  now  he  was  try- 
ing for  the  last  time  to  rise,  trying  in  his  way 
to  hit  back.  He  pulled  himself  together  to 
finish  his  army-organization  scheme ;  he  would 
show  that  he  was  not  crushed  yet.  One  day 
he  really  brought  it  to  a  conclusion.  He  brush- 
ed his  faded  coat  and  silk  hat,  and  set  out  with 
a  packet  under  his  arm.  It  was  a  great  day. 
He  also  obtained  an  audience  with  the  minis- 
ter of  war,  and  entered.  It  was  a  great  mo- 
ment. 

His  speech  was  a  little  hesitating,  but  his 
eyes  shone  as  he  held  out  his  packet.  The 
minister  looked  astonished,  and  seemed  unwill- 
ing to  take  it.  "But  don't  you  know,"  he  said, 
"that  the  military  committee  are  finished  with 
the  army  organization?  Oh  no,  Storthing  has 


294  Life 

not  taken  it  up  yet,  but  when  both  the  larger 
committee  and  the  Department  are  agreed 
about  it,  a  completely  new  scheme  will  scarcely 
be  likely  to  have  any  influence."  The  minister 
turned  to  the  window  for  a  moment,  as  he 
stroked  his  dark  moustache.  "I  may  perhaps 
tell  you  that  we  have  been  positively  flooded 
with  new  schemes,  especially  by  retired  offi- 
cers." And  he  smiled  to  soften  the  effect  of 
his  words.  "But  you'd  better  go  to  the  chair- 
man of  the  military  committee,"  he  concluded 
evidently  to  get  rid  of  his  visitor. 

With  compressed  lips,  Captain  Riis  made 
his  way  out  of  the  room  with  his  packet.  The 
military  committee  had  often  called  in  General 
Bang  as  adviser,  and  its  chairman  was  a  young 
captain.  Should  he  humble  himself  and  go 
there  too  and  be  sent  away?  No!  But  half 
way  up  the  street  he  turned.  There  was  still 
a  remnant  of  hope.  He  tried  to  hold  himself 
erect,  and  went  there. 

A  couple  of  hours  later  the  charwoman  was 
busy  cleaning  the  house,  when  he  tottered  in, 
threw  the  packet  on  the  table  and  sank  into 
a  chair  with  his  hat  on.  His  eyes  were  blood- 


Life  295 

shot  and  he  spoke  to  himself  of  things  that  the 
old  woman  did  not  understand  a  word  of.  At 
last  he  allowed  her  to  help  him  into  bed,  and 
there  he  remained  for  a  couple  of  days. 

But  now  this  was  over  too.  Captain  Riis 
felt  that  he  had  passed  through  his  last  disap- 
pointment, and  that  there  was  nothing  left 
for  him  to  hope  for.  He  began  to  busy  him- 
self again  with  little  things,  and  discovered 
that  he  had  still  legs  to  walk  with.  The  days 
were  rather  long,  however.  An  empty  house 
is  an  advantage  for  any  one  working,  but  he 
had  nothing  to  do  now.  A  retired  captain  is 
nothing  very  much,  but  while  he  is  forming 
an  army-scheme  he  is  more  than  a  general; 
he  becomes  a  ruler,  and  his  hand  is  all-power- 
ful. But  now  that  was  all  over  too.  He  was 
once  more  degraded  into  an  old,  crushed  man, 
who  could  not  sleep  at  night  and  dared  not  go 
out  in  daylight.  He  tried  to  draw  for  the  en- 
gineer's office,  but  his  hand  trembled  and  his 
eyes  were  worse  than  ever.  He  had  a  debt  of 
honour  now,  and  it  became  clear  to  him  that 
he  must  give  up  all  thought  of  paying  it. 

Time  really  hung  upon  his  hands.    He  went 


296  Life 

to  bed  at  night  without  having  done  anything 
in  the  day;  he  got  up  in  the  morning  without 
expectation  of  anything  good.  He  went  out 
at  twilight,  always  with  the  old  fear  of  meeting 
at  the  next  corner  some  one  to  whom  his  son 
owed  money.  There  was  no  one  expecting 
him  when  he  came  home.  The  bell  never  rang 
now,  and  he  began  to  miss  it. 

He  would  sit  for  hours  at  the  window,  look- 
ing over  the  house-roofs.  Far  off  there  was 
a  shining  church-tower  upon  which  the  sun 
shone,  and  it  gradually  became  a  kind  of 
friend;  and  he  was  glad  it  was  an  inanimate 
thing  that  could  not  deceive  him. 

One  day  when  he  went  out,  he  found  a 
bunch  of  flowers  at  the  door.  He  took  them  in 
to  Astrid's  room,  where  the  charwoman  was 
not  allowed.  Everything  in  it  stood  as  it  had 
stood  when  she  last  left  it.  She  had  not  had 
time  to  make  the  bed,  and  the  pillow  still  re- 
tained a  hollow  where  her  head  had  rested,  and 
the  mattress  where  her  body  had  lain.  Some 
clothes  hung  upon  the  wall,  and  a  faded  pic- 
ture of  her  mother ;  and  a  pair  of  slippers  stood 
by  the  bed.  It  still  seemed  to  hold  her  pres- 


Life  297 

ence,  and  he  stood  looking  from  one  thing  to 
another  until  his  lips  began  to  tremble. 

Sometimes  some  dish  at  dinner  tasted  par- 
ticularly good.  He  often  thought  he  heard  a 
whispering  in  the  kitchen  as  if  there  were  some 
one  youthful  in  the  house;  and  when  the  old 
woman  came  in,  he  thought  he  could  see  his 
daughter's  smile  upon  her  face. 

At  last  there  came  a  letter  from  Astrid.  His 
glasses  often  needed  wiping  while  he  read  it. 
A  day  or  two  later  a  large  printed  card  came 
from  General  Bang,  who  had  the  honour  to 
invite  him  to  dinner  on  the  following  Satur- 
day, on  the  occasion  of  his  son's  marriage  with 
Frcken  Astrid  Riis.  He  held  the  card  in 
his  thin  hands,  and  he  did  not  laugh  scornfully, 
nor  tear  it  to  pieces ;  he  laid  it  one  side. 

The  reason  of  his  calmness  was  his  inability 
to  do  anything  more.  At  night  he  closed  his 
eyes  wishing  he  were  never  to  wake  again.  He 
expected  nothing  from  any  one  else.  He  him- 
self was  nothing.  Life  went  on,  and  had 
enough  to  do  in  helping  the  happy,  the  strong, 
the  victorious.  Now  and  then  some  one  fell 


298  Life 

under  the  wheels  of  the  triumphal  car.  What 
matter  if  they  did? 

"So  you're  to  be  a  bride  on  Saturday,  As- 
trid?  And  many  of  the  bridegroom's  family 
will  be  there,  but  none  from  yours.  You'll  be 
alone.  So  you're  going  to  get  married  now, 
Astrid?" 

Looking  towards  the  window,  he  went  on: 
"Why  do  I  hate  General  Bang?  He  kept 
me  from  being  promoted.  Is  that  certain? 
A  woman.  What's  a  woman?  She's  a  man's 
life.  And  what's  a  life?"  He  looked  at  the 
distant  church-tower  and  sat  on.  This  per- 
petual hatred,  this  long  plan  of  revenge,  this 
hope  that  had  kept  him  up — what  were  they 
really? 

The  next  day  he  turned  over  the  pages  of 
his  manuscript  not  to  correct  anything,  but 
from  an  indefinable  desire  to  look  into  himself. 
Once  he  had  heard  General  Bang  say  that  a 
regiment  ought  to  be  in  three  battalions;  he 
himself  suggested  four.  The  general  had  also 
once  said  that  a  battery  should  have  four  guns; 
he  had  put  six.  Why?  He  closed  his  eyes, 
as  if  to  examine  himself,  then  opened  them, 


Life  x     299 

turned  over  more  pages,  and  closed  them 
again.  Why  that — and  that? 

He  had  not  gone  to  the  other  and  chal- 
lenged him — that  time;  he  did  not  thrash  him. 
He  mobilised  instead — on  paper — a  whole 
army.  Was  it  so?  He  raised  thousands  of 
soldiers,  divided  up  brigade-districts,  made 
regiments  and  batteries,  built  fortresses  here 
and  not  there,  increased  the  cavalry,  reduced 
the  engineers;  it  was  a  life-work.  But  why? 
It  had  been  the  work  of  years.  Satisfaction? 
Revenge?  The  whole  Norwegian  army  was 
to  be  reorganised  because  he  himself  was  un- 
happy. Does  such  a  thing  often  happen?  Do 
other  men  do  the  same?  Each  shouts  for  him- 
self, wants  to  take  the  world  for  his  own  use; 
the  voice  of  one  is  lost  in  the  noise,  another  ob- 
tains a  moment  or  two's  hearing,  and  it  is 
called  a  victory,  it  is  doing  good.  What  is  it? 

The  captain  laid  the  papers  aside  and 
smiled.  He  was  almost  sorry  for  this  great 
work  that  patiently  mirrored  his  desire  for 
vain  glory.  He  had  had  a  picture  of  the  world 
in  his  head.  A  wheel  goes  over  it  one  day,  and 
a  world  is  extinguished.  What  matter?  A 


300  Life 

grain  of  corn  falls  upon  a  stone  and  does  not 
germinate;  a  planet  in  space  is  annihilated. 
What  of  that? 

He  rose  and  paced  slowly  up  and  down  and 
looked  at  his  thin  hands.  It  was  Thursday, 
and  the  day  after  tomorrow  little  Astrid  was 
to  be  a  bride.  He  must  answer.  He  felt  it 
impossible  to  say  yes,  and  still  more  to  say  no. 
Friday  came.  "If  I  were  to  go  tomorrow  and 
give  away  my  daughter,  I  should  humble  my- 
self, fall  at  my  enemy's  feet.  But  who  am  I? 
One  who  has  done  nothing.  I  cannot  pay  my 
debt  of  honour.  Am  I  any  better  than  a  beg- 
gar?" 

The  next  morning  Captain  Riis  rose  and 
began  to  brush  up  his  least  faded  uniform. 
He  took  a  scarf  and  epaulettes  too  out  of  a 
drawer  and  looked  at  them.  He  had  once 
thought  of  donning  his  dress  uniform  once 
more  in  his  life,  and  that  was  on  the  day  when 
he  obtained  satisfaction,  though  how  it  would 
all  take  place  had  not  been  quite  clear  to  him. 
But  he  had  so  often  recalled  what  had  taken 
place  once  when  he  was  serving  in  a  French 
Regiment.  The  general  called  up  the  happy 


Life  301 

man,  there  was  a  speech,  an  order,  beating  of 
drums,  presenting  of  arms.  It  was  a  recollec- 
tion, and  each  one  of  us  has  some  such  indis- 
tinct fancy,  which  is  at  once  a  recollection  and 
a  hope.  Had  this  moment  now  arrived? 

No,  and  yet  the  captain  took  great  trouble 
in  inking  over  the  shiny  places  on  his  uniform. 
It  would  be  the  last  time  he  was  in  full  dress. 
Did  he  really  mean  to  go  to  church  for  little 
Astrid's  sake?  To  forgive  her — or  the  other? 
Had  he  then,  who  was  nothing,  owned  nothing 
but  debts,  and  whom  no  one  noticed — had  he 
anything  to  give  away? 

He  put  on  his  uniform ;  his  boots  shone.  He 
looked  at  himself  in  the  glass.  He  was  well 
shaved,  but  his  eyes  were  perhaps  redder  and 
his  cheeks  hollower  than  they  had  been.  His 
hair  was  white.  He  put  on  his  epaulets  and 
scarf;  but  as  he  was  about  to  buckle  on  his 
sword,  he  dropped  into  a  chair  and  sat  lost  in 
thought. 

To  forgive !  It  was  like  going  to  one's  own 
funeral.  To  give  his  hand  to  the  general. 
To  go  to  his  home.  To  look  as  if  nothing  were 
the  matter.  He  had  not  answered  the  invita- 


302  Life 

tion,  but  now  he  was  going  to  confess  his 
weakness.  The  other  would  smile  and  tri- 
umph. This  was  his  satisfaction ;  this  was  how 
it  was  to  end.  He  rose  with  difficulty  and 
buckled  on  his  sword.  He  was  ready.  When 
the  time  came  for  him  to  go,  he  put  his  hand 
to  his  collar  which  seemed  to  strangle  him. 
Then  he  went  to  the  door,  where  he  stood  for 
a  moment  looking  back  at  the  rooms  where  he 
had  suffered  much,  but  where  hatred  and  a 
dream  had  kept  him  up.  It  was  over  now, 
and  he  was  on  his  way  to  throw  himself  under 
the  wheels  of  the  other's  chariot ;  he  was  on  his 
way  to  forgive.  He  was  effacing  himself. 
Present  arms! 


XVI 

PAUL  TANGEN  had  come  to  town  to  be 
Reidar's  best  man,  and  set  out  in  good  time 
for  Bygdo,  to  fetch  the  bridegroom.  After 
crossing  the  ferry,  he  tramped  through  the 
yellow  woods  along  the  bay,  looking  across 
to  the  town  with  its  wavy  masses  of  houses  in 
the  pale  autumn  sunshine.  The  season  was 
beginning  in  there,  and  he  would  have  to  stay 
for  years  in  the  country  to  work  and  save.  It 
was  enough  to  make  one  weep. 

He  found  Reidar  walking  up  and  down  his 
dining-room  in  full  dress.  "Help  yourself  to 
a  cigar  and  sit  down,"  he  said  and  went  on  with 
his  walk.  Through  a  window  the  sun  spread 
a  square  patch  of  light  on  the  floor,  and  now 
he  crossed  this  patch  of  light,  now  went  into 
the  shadow  beyond  it.  He  put  his  hand  up  to 
his  pale,  freckled  face  to  feel  if  he  was  properly 
shaved,  and  then  passed  it  over  his  short,  red 
hair,  pulled  down  his  cuffs  over  his  strong- 

303 


304  Life 

looking  hands,  threw  back  his  shoulders,  and 
continued  his  walk. 

"You  look  as  if  you  were  going  up  for  an 
examination,"  said  Tangen,  seating  himself  in 
a  comfortable  chair  with  a  cigar. 

"Do  I  look  so  serious?"  said  Reidar,  trying 
to  laugh.  Tangen  continued:  "On  such  a 
great  day  as  this,  I  think  you  might  run  to  a 
white  waistcoat."  Reidar  stopped  short  and 
looked  at  him,  wondering  how  he  could  think 
of  anything  so  unimportant  now. 

"I  suppose  you've  been  dressed  since  first 
thing  this  morning,  and  have  been  having  a 
private  settlement  with  Providence."  Reidar 
looked  at  him  and  smiled,  and  then  went  on 
walking  a  little  more  slowly  than  before.  "And 
now  you've  got  to  appear  before  the  church, 
my  friend.  To  tell  the  truth,  I  didn't  know 
you  were  confirmed.  Wasn't  it  then  you  had 
a  row  with  your  father?"  Reidar  shook  his 
head.  "You  gave  in  that  time  then?"  Reidar 
nodded.  "Then  it  was  when  you  went  to 
America  without  any  one  knowing?"  Reidar 
smiled.  "And  then  shot  an  Irishman  at 
Klondyke  a  quarter  of  a  minute  before  his 


Life  305 

knife  could  reach  you."  Reidar  passed  his 
hand  over  his  forehead  and  stopped.  "Why 
do  you  mention  that  now?"  "I'm  taking  your 
measure,"  said  Tangen.  "I'd  rather  not  be 
your  enemy."  Reidar  made  an  impatient  gest- 
ure and  began  walking  up  and  down  again. 
But  suddenly  he  took  a  chair,  and  went  and 
sat  down  in  front  of  the  other.  "Now,  Paul 
Tangen,  answer  me  a  question."  Reidar  was 
evidently  a  little  embarrassed.  "Now  honestly, 
do  you  never  feel  sorry  to  have  no  religion?" 
"Yes,  perhaps."  "We  human  beings  are  in 
reality  so  defenceless."  "Yes,  we  are."  "And 
yet  at  the  same  time  there's  no  good  in 
churches  and  priests."  "Why,  you're  going 
to  church  today!" 

Reidar  got  up  and  again  began  his  restless 
walk.  "There's  music  and  a  vaulted  roof,  at 
any  rate.  But  don't  you  think  our  descend- 
ants will  have  temples  that  answer  a  little  bet- 
ter to  the  universal  spirit?  I'm  dreading  to 
hear  the  priest  speak  to  Astrid  about  God  and 
sin  in  the  same  breath.  Sin!  As  if  the  Lord 
of  light  and  the  universe  hadn't  something  bet- 
ter to  do!"  "Ah,"  said  Tangen,  "you  ought 


306  Life 

to  have  had  me  as  your  priest.  I  would  have 
preached  about  something  different."  Reidar 
suddenly  thawed,  and  they  both  had  a  good 
laugh.  "Now  I  must  really  have  a  cigar  too," 
he  said,  as  if  to  shake  the  whole  subject  off. 

At  the  same  time  Astrid  was  sitting  in  her 
room,  holding  in  her  hands  a  bouquet.  Reidar's 
last  present  to  her  in  their  engagement  days. 
She  was  to  take  it  to  church  with  her,  so  it 
would  also  be  his  first  in  their  married  life. 
She  had  been  sitting  there  for  several  hours 
looking  at  it  with  a  far-away  look  in  her  eyes. 
Of  late  Astrid  had  gone  through  so  many  emo- 
tional experiences  that  she  scarcely  felt  them 
now.  She  seemed  to  turn  to  them  and  try  to 
smile.  It  hurt  her  a  little  not  having  heard 
yet  from  her  father.  The  general  refused  to 
take  any  notice  of  this,  and  was  giving  a  large 
party  this  evening,  he  was  so  bent  on  going 
his  own  way.  Ah  well,  she  would  get  over  it! 
And  there  was  something  worse,  something 
terrible.  Ever  since  she  had  fled  to  Reidar 
she  had  had  a  feeling  that  her  happiness  would 
not  continue.  It  would  soon  come  to  an  end. 
And  now  she  knew  what  it  was.  That  strange 


Life  307 

evening1  on  the  'fjord — what  had  happened 
then — it  could  not  be  hidden,  and  it  was  the 
same  thing  as  that  she  could  not  live.  It  was 
an  abyss  to  look  down  into,  but  she  tried  to 
smile.  She  would  like  to  have  lived  with 
Reidar,  but  to  come  to  him  she  had  had  to  de- 
ceive her  father.  There  was  a  great  price  to 
pay  for  happiness.  She  had  grown  up  in  a 
dark  house  where  she  had  longed  for  sunshine 
and  youth ;  but  to  get  them  she  always  had  to 
tell  untruths  and  deceive;  sunshine  was  so 
dear!  It  must  have  been  the  same  with  her 
mother.  Had  not  the  fate  of  that  dead  mother 
enticed  her  farther  and  farther,  and  at  last 
dragged  her  with  her?  Well,  there  was  no 
help  for  it  now. 

"Dear  Reidar,  so  we  are  to  be  married  to- 
day." She  knew  in  her  own  mind  that  that 
time  on  the  fjord — it  was  only  a  dream  about 
Reidar.  She  closed  her  eyes  and  called  him 
to  her.  It  was  his  neck  round  which  she 
threw  her  arms.  It  was  to  him  she  gave  her 
soul.  The  dream  about  Reidar  was  beautiful 
— the  other  was  death.  Astrid  raised  the  flow- 


308  Life 

ers  to  her  face  for  a  moment,  then  let  them 
fall  again  with  the  same  far-away  look. 

"Now,  child,  we  must  make  haste,"  said  Fru 
Bang,  coming  in  with  the  dressmaker.  Her 
dress  was  produced  from  a  cardboard  box.  It 
was  white  silk  embroidered  with  gold,  so  light 
and  airy  that  she  looked  as  if  she  were  clothed 
in  light.  Then  Inga  came  in,  dressed  in  pale 
yellow  silk,  and  with  white  flowers  in  her  hair. 
She  also  had  a  little  box,  out  of  which  she  now 
took  the  green  myrtle  wreath.  For  a  moment 
the  two  friends  stood  looking  at  one  another. 
Inga  smiled  as  if  she  were  asking  forgiveness 
for  something,  and  at  last  she  said:  "Do  you 
object  to  my  putting  this  on  for  you,  Astrid?" 
"No,"  said  Astrid.  "Who  else  do  you  think 
I  should  wish  to  do  it?"  So  Inga  took  up  the 
wreath,  and  fastened  it  to  Astrid's  golden  hair, 
and  the  two  girls  kissed  one  another. 

Fru  Bang  fastened  upon  Astrid's  breast  a 
tiny  gold  watch  set  with  diamonds.  "It  is 
from  Reidar,"  she  said,  and  then  took  from 
her  own  arm  a  bracelet  of  lava,  and  placed  it 
upon  the  bride's,  saying:  "That  is  from  me, 
or  perhaps  today  you  would  like  it  to  be  from 


Life  309 

your  mother."  Astrid  threw  her  arms  about 
her  neck. 

The  next  moment  the  door  opened  and  the 
old  grandmother  entered,  dressed  in  black  silk, 
and  with  her  stick.  She  put  up  her  veil,  and 
after  looking  at  Astrid  for  a  little  while,  ex- 
claimed, "Ah,  Reidar  knows  how  to  choose!" 
A  ruby  cross  was  hanging  on  a  gold  chain 
round  her  neck,  and  this  she  now  took  off  and 
fastened  round  the  bride's  neck,  saying  as  she 
did  so:  "Take  my  blessing  with  it,  my  child. 
My  grandmother,  my  mother  and  myself  all 
wore  it  as  brides.  May  you  also  one  day  put  it 
round  your  grandchild's  neck."  And  she 
kissed  the  bride  on  both  cheeks.  Astrid  tried 
to  thank  her,  and  then  looked  at  herself  in  the 
glass  with  all  this  finery  on,  and  smiled  as 
before. 

A  wedding  such  as  this  gathers  a  number  of 
spectators,  and  there  was  already  a  large 
crowd  round  Frogner  Church.  Carriages 
drove  up,  and  the  wedding-guests  got  out  and 
went  into  the  church.  There  was  a  stir  when 
a  particularly  bridal-looking  carriage  and  pair 
drove  up,  but  it  contained  two  gentlemen,  the 


310  Life 

bridegroom  and  the  best  man.     The  two  tall 
men  raised  their  hats. 

As  Reidar  walked  up  the  church,  he  looked 
about  him  as  if  he  had  never  been  in  a  church 
before.  There  were  onlookers  in  the  pews, 
and  up  in  the  choir  sat  relatives  and  friends, 
who  nodded  to  him;  but  he  bent  his  head  and 
made  no  response.  It  was  all  so  solemn  in  this 
silence  and  the  light  from  the  coloured  win- 
dows. He  recalled  the  emotions  he  had  felt 
during  the  summer.  Today  they  were  to  be 
sung  out  in  hymns  and  borne  up  by  the  organ. 
The  old  clerk,  in  a  black  skull-cap,  showed 
them  to  a  bench  opposite  which  was  another 
which  he  knew  was  for  the  bride. 

"Who's  that  old  officer  down  there?"  whis- 
pered Tangen.  They  both  looked  down  the 
dimly-lighted  church.  An  old,  white-haired 
officer  had  just  come  in  and  taken  up  a  posi- 
tion behind  a  pillar,  as  if  he  did  not  want  to 
be  seen.  He  looked  at  the  two  men,  and  his 
eyes  looked  keen  and  red.  The  bridegroom 
shook  his  head.  He  did  not  know  him. 

But  the  bride  would  soon  be  here,  and  it 
seemed  to  Reidar  that  something  wonderful 


Life  911 

must  happen  then.  The  great  nave  seemed 
breathless,  people  sat  motionless,  and  the  clerk 
put  on  his  spectacles  and  began  to  turn  over 
the  leaves  of  his  hymn-book.  What  now? 

Suddenly  the  organ  burst  out,  and  the 
vaulted  roof  was  filled  with  its  tones.  The 
whole  congregation  rose,  and  at  the  door  at  the 
bottom  of  the  church  appeared  the  general 
with  his  gold  epaulets  and  orders,  holding  in 
one  hand  his  plumed  hat,  and  by  his  side  some- 
thing white — the  bride. 

Reidar  never  forgot  that  moment.  A  wave 
of  emotion  passed  over  him,  and  he  felt  as  if 
he  must  get  hold  of  something  to  cling  to. 
That  white  figure  was  supernatural.  She  did 
not  seem  to  walk;  she  floated.  His  father, 
who  was  leading  her,  now  looked  so  splendid 
that  he  felt  he  ought  never  to  have  opposed 
him.  At  that  moment  the  church  was  more 
than  a  place  of  beautiful  music,  and  a  good 
old  man  who  was  there  and  looked  kindly  at 
them  both  was  the  far-off,  universal  spirit. 
And  he  felt  himself  so  unworthy,  so  humble, 
that  he  involuntarily  bowed  his  head  and  whis- 


312  Life 


pered  to  himself:  "If  I  have  sinned  much, 
O  God,  forgive  me!" 

General  Bang  was  seventy,  hut  he  walked 
lightly  and  easily,  as  if  he  himself  were  the 
bridegroom;  and  upon  his  cheerful  face  was  a 
look  as  if  something  from  long  ago  had  once 
more  become  young  and  living.  . 

Suddenly  his  eyes  fell  upon  the  white-haired 
captain,  and  he  gazed  curiously  at  him.  The 
captain  had  risen  behind  his  pillar,  and  was 
looking  at  the  two.  The  general  started,  but 
noticing  that  the  bride  had  fortunately  seen 
nothing,  he  led  her  to  her  place  opposite  the 
bridegroom,  took  his  sword  in  his  hand,  and 
sat  down  beside  her. 

Astrid  looked  across  at  Reidar  and  smiled, 
but  for  a  moment  he  felt  unable  to  smile  back. 
Then  she  looked  about  the  church,  as  if  seek- 
ing some  of  her  own  people,  but  finding  none 
she  again  smiled  at  Reidar,  and  raised  her 
bouquet  to  her  face. 

The  ceremony  did  not  take  long.  The  priest 
was  by  no  means  a  young  man,  but  every  time 
he  had  to  address  the  bride,  he  seemed  to  lose 
the  thread  and  had  to  pull  himself  together. 


Life  313 

It  was  too  bad  that  she  should  smile  like  that 
when  she  looked  at  him.  When  the  pair  knelt 
and  she  gave  her  hand  to  Reidar,  she  did  not 
look  at  him,  but  at  the  coloured  light  from  the 
window,  as  if  she  were  being  wedded  to  it. 

As  the  general  walked  with  his  wife  after 
the  bridal  pair  down  the  church,  he  looked 
anxiously  for  the  old  officer  behind  the  pillar. 
He  was  afraid  of  a  scene  if  the  bride  discov- 
ered him.  But  the  stranger  was  gone,  and  the 
general  felt  relieved.  While  the  organ  poured 
forth  its  tones,  the  couple  passed  out  of  the 
church;  but  there  the  bride  suddenly  stopped 
and  clung  to  Reidar.  The  couples  following 
down  the  aisle  came  to  a  standstill.  What  was 
it  ?  People  got  on  to  the  benches  to  see  better ; 
others  tried  to  force  their  way  out. 

Astrid  had  caught  sight  of  her  father,  and 
for  a  moment  almost  took  him  for  a  ghost. 
Her  eyes  opened  wide,  and  she  felt  as  if  she 
should  faint;  she  wanted  to  call  for  help,  and 
could  scarcely  stand.  Her  father  approached, 
and  she  saw  his  hair  was  white,  but  he  had 
made  himself  as  smart  as  he  could.  His  face 
was  almost  unrecognisable,  but  he  smiled  and 


314  Life 

saluted.  He  did  it  to  her.  He  meant  no 
harm;  and  the  next  moment  the  bride  had 
rushed  to  him  and  thrown  her  arms  about  his 
neck,  crying:  "Father!  Father!" 

The  organ  still  went  on  playing  in  the 
church,  but  the  crowd  could  get  no  farther. 
Only  those  outside  saw  the  old  officer  take  the 
bride  in  his  arms.  For  a  moment  it  looked  as 
if  he  were  going  to  carry  her  away.  The 
bridegroom  gazed  at  the  stranger,  but  know- 
ing who  it  was,  did  not  interfere. 

"I  forgive  you!"  whispered  Captain  Riis, 
smiling  at  his  daughter.  "There  now!  Try 
to  stand  up !  How  fine  you  are  today!  I  only 
came  to  congratulate  you."  And  he  smiled 
with  the  tears  running  down  his  cheeks. 

The  bride  could  stand  again  now,  and  she 
turned  to  Reidar,  but  at  this  moment  the  gen- 
eral pressed  forward,  and  clasped  Captain  Riis 
by  the  hand,  saying  in  a  voice  loud  enough 
for  all  to  hear:  "Dear  old  friend,  how  nice  of 
you  to  come  after  all!  Are  you  better  now? 
Now  let's  be  getting  on!"  The  old  captain 
stood  erect  and  saluted  the  general,  after 
which  he  allowed  himself  to  be  led  away.  The 


^  Life  315 

whole  incident  had  only  occupied  a  minute ;  the 
carriages  drove  up,  and  the  general  arranged 
so  that  he  and  the  captain  should  drive  to- 
gether alone.  And  there  they  sat  side  by  side, 
rolling  along  after  the  bridal  carriage.  The 
captain  smiled  and  spoke  respectfully,  and 
was  then  lost  beside  the  other.  They  were  of 
the  same  age,  they  had  been  school-fellows; 
and  now  one  of  them  sat  there,  healthy  and 
strong,  magnificent  in  plumes,  gold  epaulets 
and  orders,  while  the  other  was  worn  and 
white-haired,  with  dark  ink-spots  on  his  breast 
where  orders  might  have  hung.  But  the  happy 
man  has  his  shadow,  and  at  this  moment  it  was 
evident  that  General  Bang  had  his. 

All  the  windows  in  the  pretty  house  on 
Drammens  Road  were  lighted  up  that  eve- 
ning, and  a  number  of  people  gathered  out- 
side, to  see  what  was  going  on.  A  window  was 
open,  and  they  could  hear  speeches,  and  after- 
wards music  and  dancing. 

Captain  Riis  had  the  general's  wife  on  his 
right  at  dinner,  and  the  bride  on  his  left. 
Everything  seemed  swimming  in  a  golden 
mist.  There  were  flowers  and  champagne  and 


316  Life 

his  daughter  a  bride,  and  his  enemy  proposing 
his  health.  It  was  something  like  satisfaction ! 
In  the  dance  that  followed,  he  led  out  Fru 
Bang  to  dance,  and  then  his  daughter.  It  was 
long  since  he  had  danced,  and  it  was  quite 
strange.  Afterwards  he  had  to  rest.  He  saw 
the  general  dancing  with  Astrid,  and  a  mem- 
ory suddenly  darted  into  his  mind  of  some- 
thing similar  having  happened  once  before. 
He  could  see  now  how  like  Astrid  was  to  her 
mother.  But  be  calm — all  is  past! 

He  had  only  drunk  one  glass  of  champagne, 
but  the  day  had  been  too  much  for  him;  his 
head  sank  back  against  the  sofa-back,  and 
then  he  knew  he  was  being  helped  into  a  room 
with  a  soft  bed,  in  which  it  was  pleasant  to 
sleep. 

Under  a  tree  in  the  shadow  beyond  the  zone 
of  light  that  fell  from  the  windows  of  the  house 
on  to  the  street  stood  a  bench  on  which  sat  a 
man  with  his  hat  drawn  down  over  his  eyes. 
He  knew  that  hours  were  passing,  and  that  it 
was  late ;  but  he  still  sat  on  with  his  eyes  upon 
the  house.  He  was  waiting  for  something. 
Some  people  seek  a  certain  pain  as  others  seek 


Life  317 

pleasure^  and  this  man  wanted  to  see  the  bride 
drive  away  with  another  man. 

At  last  a  motor-car  came  up,  and  he  recog- 
nised it.  It  stopped  outside  the  house  and 
waited,  and  in  a  little  while  two  figures  came 
out.  He  rose  and  gazed  at  them.  He  recog- 
nised Reidar;  and  the  other,  who  was  wrapped 
in  a  dark  shawl  with  something  white  below  it, 
must  be  she.  They  got  in;  he  could  see  the 
white  at  the  window;  the  horn  sounded  and 
they  glided  away.  He  stood  looking  after 
them  until  their  light  was  lost  in  the  darkness, 
and  then  with  bent  head  he  began  to  walk 
briskly  without  noticing  where  he  went. 

It  was  over.  Jorgen  Holth  had  a  feeling 
as  of  having  had  a  tooth  drawn,  and  now  it 
was  to  be  hoped  things  would  go  on  better 
again.  A  wave  had  taken  him  and  lifted  him 
high  up  into  the  light  and  then  dropped  him 
head  foremost  into  darkness;  and  now  he  was 
once  more  on  land.  It  was  all  over,  and  at 
last  he  found  himself  upon  the  familiar  road 
from  the  school  to  his  dull  home.  "Life  is 
strange,"  he  thought,  when  he  found  himself 
on  his  way  home.  He  recalled  how  last  win- 


318  Life 

ter  he  had  begun  to  lose  all  feeling  both  for 
ideas  and  people,  and  how  youth  had  come, 
the  visit  of  a  sunbeam,  the  kiss  of  a  fairy ;  and 
he  had  waked,  clung  to  the  fairy  and  deceived 
his  wife  and  children;  he  became  young,  felt 
hope  spring  up  within  him,  and  began  literary 
composition  again.  And  his  worn,  untidy 
wife  began  to  smile ;  his  kisses  that  were  warm 
with  thoughts  of  another  made  her  faded 
cheek  glow.  She  began  to  keep  the  house 
cleaner,  managed  to  dress  better,  and  grew 
young  again  under  his  false  warmth ;  she  read 
papers  and  books  so  as  to  have  something  to 
talk  with  him  about;  she  woke  up  more  and 
more,  as  if  her  youth  had  only  been  asleep. 
Once  he  thought  it  was  horrible,  and  would 
have  liked  to  tell  her  to  leave  off,  but  it  was 
different  when  he  was  crushed.  Then  it  was 
not  so  easy  to  reject  her  tenderness,  and  they 
were  strange  days  that  followed.  He  was 
angry  and  scolded  about  everything,  and  she 
only  smiled  and  was  always  in  a  good  temper. 
He  walked  up  and  down  at  night  and  said  he 
was  tired  and  could  see  no  way  of  getting  on; 
and  she  sat  up  with  him,  trying  to  encourage 


Life  319 

him,  and  forcing  herself  to  look  at  things  in  a 
bright  light  only  to  calm  him.  He  could  not 
scold  her;  he  had  to  kiss  her — out  of  pity. 
She  became  a  heroine  under  these  kisses,  and 
it  ended  with  his  clinging  to  her,  not  because 
he  hungered  for  youth,  but  because  he  felt  a 
desire  to  thank,  to  expiate,  to  ask  forgiveness. 

The  evil  days  began  to  fade  into  the  back- 
ground; and  nothing  brought  such  rest  to  his 
mind  as  closing  his  eyes  at  night  with  his  wife's 
hand  in  his.  •  4 

He  had  been  now  to  bid  a  last  farewell  to 
the  past.  Youth  belonged  to  youth.  It  had 
to  be  borne,  and  he  would  harden  himself  by 
seeing  them  go  away  together,  and  try  to  be 
strong  from  that  day. 

It  was  done  now.  His  wife  could  not  know 
where  he  was  so  late,  but  she  waited  for  him. 
She  was  waiting  for  a  good-night  kiss,  wait- 
ing for  the  hand  from  his  bed,  and  for  the 
certainty  that  he  slept. 

Holth  unlocked  the  street  door.  There  was 
a  close  smell  on  the  stairs,  but  he  said  to  him- 
self that  some  day  it  would  be  better.  He 
entered  the  hall,  and  knew  that  the  air  there 


320  Life 

was  as  fresh  as  Selma  could  possibly  make  it. 
He  thought  of  his  books  that  perhaps  would 
never  be  finished.  There  was  no  help  for  that ; 
it  was  something  to  work  for  his  wife  and  chil- 
dren, and  duty  was  something  too.  And  he 
was  not  old  yet ;  he  might  still  have  time  for  a 
good  deal. 

And  he  had  a  memory  in  his  heart  that  was 
wonderful  and  that  would  never  die. 

"Is  that  you,  Jorgen?"  said  a  voice  as  he 
entered  the  bedroom. 


XVII 

THE  only  being  who  could  bend  General 
Bang's  will  was  Inga.  She  begged,  she  sat 
on  his  knee  and  caressed  him,  she  sulked,  she 
wept,  and  at  last  she  threatened;  and  when  it 
was  all  of  no  avail  she  took  to  her  bed.  It 
ended  in  her  getting  her  way  in  what  Henrik 
and  she  considered  a  point  of  honour.  They 
were  allowed  to  be  married  by  the  magistrate 
quite  quietly,  with  only  her  parents  and  two 
witnesses  present.  Afterwards  they  went  and 
ate  their  wedding  dinner  alone  in  their  own 
little  home,  taking  turns  in  waiting  upon  one 
another. 

There  followed  some  wonderful  days,  when 
they  went  out  together  to  buy  the  things  for 
dinner,  when  he  carried  the  parcels  home,  and 
she  boiled  and  fried,  and  he  helped  her  to  wash 
up.  He  had  saved  a  couple  of  hundred  krones, 
and  even  if  it  meant  starving  and  living  on  a 
penny  a  day,  they  were  both  agreed  that  the 

321 


322  Life 

money  had  to  last  until  he  got  a  house  to 
build. 

Henrik  always  thought  that  the  general 
and  all  the  family  considered  him  quite  un- 
worthy of  the  young  girl,  and  he  supposed 
they  were  only  waiting  now  until  they  had  to 
help  them.  Well,  they  might  wait !  Inga  was 
wholly  on  his  side,  and  meant  to  do  without  a 
servant  and  do  everything  herself,  even  if  it 
went  on  for  years. 

Now  when  they  went  out  together,  they  no 
longer  discussed  the  rebuilding  of  the  various 
blocks,  for  they  had  long  ago  decided  what 
the  town  was  to  look  like.  They  went  about 
to  discover  the  cheapest  greengrocer,  the  most 
reasonable  butcher;  they  discussed  the  ques- 
tion as  to  whether  fish  were  not  more  nourish- 
ing than  meat,  and  whether  carrots  were  not 
better  than  anything  else.  They  were  agreed 
that  people  ate  too  much,  and  were  determined 
to  show  that  one  could  be  healthy  and  happy; 
with  little. 

The  tall,  pale  man,  and  the  slender,  dark 
girl  went  about  arm  in  arm,  apparently  blind 
to  the  fact  that  people  lived  round  about  them. 


Life  323 

She  was  still  the  well-dressed  daughter  of  a 
general,  and  carried  herself  well  as  if  she  were 
only  for  show.  No  one  was  to  see  that  her 
back  was  often  a  little  stiff  with  scrubbing 
floors,  and  her  hands  both  red  and  swollen. 
The  parcels  that  they  carried  home  were  a 
little  lighter  each  day.  Everything  in  the 
little  three-roomed  flat,  with  its  view,  over 
house-tops,  of  the  fjord,  was  spotlessly  clean 
and  tidy,  the  chairs  and  sofa  were  in  a  new 
style  created  by  the  master  himself,  the  table- 
cloths and  curtains  had  been  woven  by  Inga 
in  their  engagement-days,  and  in  the  outer 
room  a  large  table  strewn  with  drawings,  in 
case  any  one  should  come.  They  were  always 
waiting  for  some  one  to  ring  and  come  in  and 
order  a  house;  but  they  had  agreed  to  say  to 
the  first  that  came  that  unfortunately  Henrik 
was  overloaded  with  work,  and  would  have  a 
difficulty  in  undertaking  anything  more. 

He  wrote  an  article  on  how  much  cheaper 
it  is  to  build  pretty  houses  than  ugly  ones,  and 
it  was  really  printed  in  a  paper.  He  expected 
an  answer  from  some  one,  but  when  none 
came  he  wrote  one  himself  under  another 


324  Life 

name,  so  that  he  could  appear  once  more  un- 
der his  own.  The  thing  was  to  get  one's  self 
known  a  little.  Afterwards  they  waited  trem- 
bling for  steps  on  the  stair  and  the  ringing  of 
the  bell.  He  had  submitted  to  the  town  cor- 
poration plans  for  a  handsome  block  of  work- 
people's flats,  and  to  private  companies  plans 
for  a  villa-suburb.  He  waited  for  their  an- 
swers and  he  got  them;  but  they  were  "No," 
and  in  the  evening  they  went  to  sleep  in  one 
another's  arms,  she  in  tears,  and  he  with  com- 
pressed lips.  The  bell  did  ring,  but  it  was 
their  relations  come  to  see  them.  There  were 
steps  on  the  stairs,  but  they  were  only  mes- 
sengers with  bills.  Things  began  to  look  dark, 
but  they  rose  every  morning  with  renewed 
hope,  and  accustomed  themselves  to  do  with- 
out coffee  at  breakfast  and  after  dinner,  and 
never  thought  of  having  a  sweet  to  dinner. 
Inga  toiled  and  washed  and  scoured  heroically, 
and  shed  a  few  tears  in  secret,  but  laughed 
and  kept  up  her  husband's  courage  when  they 
were  together. 

One  day  he  was  standing,  sleeves  turned 


Life  325 

up,  helping  Inga  to  iron  his  collars,  when  the 
bell  rang. 

"Hurry  up!"  said  Inga.  "That  is  some- 
body, for  mother  never  comes  so  early." 

Henrik  dried  his  hands,  turned  down  his 
sleeves  and  put  on  his  coat,  and  went  rather 
anxiously  to  open  the  door.  Inga  could  hear 
it  was  a  man  who  came  in.  Henrik  was  a  long 
time  in  the  next  room,  and  it  sounded  as  if  a 
discussion  were  going  on.  She  tiptoed  to  the 
door  and  listened  with  beating  heart,  but  could 
catch  nothing.  At  last  the  stranger  left,  and 
Henrik  rushed  in,  crying:  "Where  are  you?" 
He  ran  to  her,  took  her  in  his  arms  and  car- 
ried her  round  the  room.  "Don't  be  so  silly!" 
cried  Inga.  "But  tell  me  what  it  was." 
"You're  my  little  wife,  and  the  prettiest  in 
the  world,  and  I'm  your  husband,  and  it's  all 
just  splendid!"  "No,  no,  don't!  You  can 
kiss  me  afterwards!  Tell  me  what  it  is!" 
"An  Englishman,  a  Croesus,  who  wants  a 
large  house  in  Asker."  "Oh  dear !  I  suppose 
you  didn't  say  no?"  "I  really  couldn't!  Was 
it  wrong  of  me  ?"  "Why  of  course  not !  Now 
we  must  have  a  dinner  to  celebrate  it."  "Yes, 


326  Life 

and  today  I've  still  got  time  to  help  you. 
Come  along!  I'll  stand  treat  for  beer." 
"And  I  for  a  pudding."  "And  I  for  coffee." 
"And  I  for  a  cigar."  And  they  danced  about 
the  room,  kissing  one  another,  delighted,  ra- 
diant with  youth. 

There  are  often  beautiful  days  in  October, 
too,  days  when  the  scarlet  rowan  trees  and 
yellow  aspens  lift  their  dying  colours  against 
a  background  of  blue  fjord  and  green  fir- 
woods.  Out  at  Astrid  and  Reidar's  it  was 
very  peaceful  now  that  the  relations  left  them 
to  themselves.  In  the  twilight,  when  he  came 
home  from  the  office,  they  went  along  the 
shore  together,  and  looked  at  the  water  and 
the  red-brown  hills  above  Baekkelaget,  at  the 
ships  coming  in,  and  at  the  strip  of  red  sky 
far  out. 

They  had  once  agreed  to  have  a  wedding- 
trip  to  England,  where  Reidar  had  business  to 
transact;  but  Astrid  said  she  would  rather 
wait,  and  the  journey  was  put  off. 

It  seemed  as  if  he  did  not  know  her  so  well 
now;  she  seemed  to  be  slipping  out  of  his 


Life  827 

hands,  moving  away  into  regions  where  he 
could  not  follow  her,  avoided  his  caresses,  and 
yet  was  more  tender,  more  devoted,  and  pret- 
tier than  she  had  ever  been. 

The  housekeeper,  who  had  dreaded  being 
dismissed  when  the  young  mistress  came,  was 
still  allowed  to  manage  the  house.  Astrid  was 
late  in  rising,  and  ate  her  food  without  no- 
ticing what  it  consisted  of,  and  then  wandered 
from  room  to  room  and  looked  at  all  the  beau- 
tiful things  with  the  same  distant  smile.  Was 
she  not  only  a  guest  here?  She  would  soon 
have  to  go  away. 

She  went  to  see  her  father  in  the  little  back- 
yard flat,  and  thought  it  darker  than  ever; 
she  went  into  the  little  kitchen,  and  was 
touched  at  the  sight  of  the  big  copper  kettle 
and  the  few  utensils.  The  captain  was  kind, 
but  he  walked  about  as  if  he  could  not  settle 
anywhere. 

One  day  Reidar  prepared  a  surprise  for  her. 
He  came  driving  out  with  her  father,  and 
after  them  came  a  little  load  of  furniture. 
The  old  man  was  to  live  in  his  daughter's 
house,  and  was  given  a  pretty  room  on  the 


328  Life 

first  floor.  Astrid  put  her  arms  round  her 
husband's  neck  and  said  he  was  too  kind. 

"Perhaps  it'll  make  you  laugh  a  little 
oftener,  will  it?"  he  asked. 

"Yes,  perhaps." 

So  Captain  Riis  was  installed  in  a  beautiful 
house,  where  he  had  to  dress  better,  and  where 
he  could  manage  to  pay  off  his  debts ;  and  he 
could  smoke  as  many  pipes  as  he  liked.  He 
could  at  last  go  for  a  walk  in  broad  daylight 
without  fear  of  meeting  a  creditor,  and  he  no 
longer  smarted  with  vexation,  hatred  and 
plans  for  revenge  that  kept  him  awake  at 
night.  And  yet  it  was  strange  to  get  up  and 
begin  a  day.  He  had  nothing  to  hope  for. 
He  was  comfortable ;  but  had  been  forced  into 
it,  as  it  were;  he  had  not  won  it  for  himself, 
it  was  not  what  he  had  merited.  There  werei 
times  when  he  sat  with  bowed  head  and  a  feel- 
ing of  shame. 

Once  the  general  suddenly  entered  the 
room,  and  the  captain  involuntarily  rose  to 
salute.  The  general  put  his  hands  on  his 
shoulders  and  pressed  him  into  a  chair,  called 
him  "dear  friend,"  and  overflowed  with  kind- 


Life  329 

ness.  The  captain  tried  to  be  natural  in  re- 
turn, but  was  only  respectful.  This  mortal 
enemy,  who  had  done  him  so  much  harm,  but 
who  had  always  lived  in  the  sunshine,  so 
dazzled  him  when  at  close  quarters  that  he 
felt  exceedingly  small.  The  captain  liked 
best  to  be  alone  in  his  room,  when  he  tried  to 
withdraw  into  himself;  but  after  all  it  was 
only  to  find  painful  memories,  the  ruins  of  a 
hatred  and  a  hope,  and  besides,  nothing.  At 
last  he  took  to  reading,  the  first  book  being 
General  Marbot's  Reminiscences.  This  was 
quite  in  his  line,  and  his  own  youthful  dreams 
lived  again.  He  had  once  hoped  himself  to 
gain  victories  and  pass  through  vanquished 
towns.  Now  he  read  of  Napoleon  and  his  gen- 
erals, and  lost  himself  in  the  brilliant  life  for 
which  he  had  himself  been  intended;  and  the 
world  around  him  was  blotted  out  entirely. 

In  a  happy  moment,  Reidar  proposed  that 
he  should  begin  to  ride.  It  was  a  great  day 
when,  in  uniiorm,  he  mounted  the  beautiful 
horse  and  trotted  through  the  wood.  He  was 
a  little  stiff  at  first,  but  that  went  off;  and 
now  he  had  his  war-reading  and  riding,  and 


330  Life 

the  one  supplemented  the  other.  Every  time 
he  mounted,  he  had  a  feeling  of  having  risen 
after  all,  that  he  was  a  staff -officer  and  was 
setting  off  for  the  manoeuvres.  He  discov- 
ered strategic  points  in  the  country  around, 
and  began  to  imagine  the  battles  of  which  he 
read  being  fought  before  his  eyes.  If  now 
Kutusov  had  drawn  up  the  Russian  army  dif- 
ferently at  Austerlitz,  in  such  a  way,  for  in- 
stance. Another  day  he  led  Napoleon's  left 
wing  at  Jena,  and  swords  flashed  and  cannon 
thundered.  It  sometimes  became  so  real  to 
him  that  he  would  point  with  his  hand  as  if 
giving  commands  to  an  aide-de-camp;  and 
sometimes  he  would  suddenly  put  the  horse 
into  a  gallop  to  hasten  to  the  aid  of  some  hard- 
pressed  regiment. 

People  walking  about  Bygdo  began  to  get 
accustomed  to  this  solitary  rider,  white-haired 
and  in  a  faded  uniform,  who  talked  to  him- 
self, and  would  suddenly  galkx)  up  on  to  a 
hill  to  arrange  something  or  other.  The  Oc- 
tober wind  blew  clouds  of  yellow  leaves  across 
the  fields,  and  the  horseman  stood  out  against 


Life  331 

the  sky,  motionless,  with  outstretched  hand,  a 
living  monument  in  the  wind. 

Astrid  was  anxious  every  time  she  saw  him 
ride  away,  but  Reidar  assured  her  that  the 
horse  was  steady,  and  that  there  was  no 
danger. 

One  moonlight  evening,  when  the  trees 
along  the  bay  sparkled  with  frost,  the  newly- 
married  couple  were  walking  along  the  shore 
stopping  every  now  and  then  to  look  at  the 
lights  of  the  harbour  and  town.  Astrid  went 
down  to  the  water,  stooped  and  put  her  finger 
in. 

"I  hope  you're  not  thinking  of  bathing?" 
said  Reidar. 

"It's  not  really  cold,"  she  said,  smiling  and 
coming  back.  He  took  her  arm  and  drew  her 
on.  "I  remember,"  he  said,  "the  first  time  I 
saw  you.  You  weren't  so  pretty  then  as  you 
are  now." 

"And  I  remember  when  I  saw  you  in  the 
air  on  skis,"  she  said,  turning  towards  him. 
"Always  afterwards,  when  I  was  in  the  dark 
kitchen  at  home,  and  thought  of  sun  and  blue 
sky,  it  was  of  you  I  thought." 


332  Life 

"Perhaps  you'd  like  to  go  up  there  for  a 
little  now.  We  can  take  a  maid  and  live  there 
quite  quietly." 

She  turned  and  looked  towards  the  distant 
hills  in  the  moonlight,  as  if  her  thoughts  had 
flown  there  where  they  had  met  that  Easter, 
and  were  going  through  it  all  again.  Then 
she  shook  her  head.  "No,  Reidar,  not  now. 
You  mustn't  mind,  but  I  can't  now." 

"I  can't  think  what's  the  matter  with  you, 
Astrid.  You  used  to  be  so  well  and  happy, 
and  could  never  do  too  much,  and  now  you 
don't  care  about  anything.  It  must  be  my 
fault.  I  often  wonder  how  I  can  change  my- 
self so  as  to  be  what  you  like." 

"But,  dear,  you  can't  mean  that!  It's  I 
who  am  impossible.  But  you  must  bear  with 
me  a  little  longer."  And  she  clung  to  him, 
full  of  tenderness,  a  soft  warmth,  without 
fire. 

What  was  he  to  do?  At  table  she  would 
fix  her  eyes  upon  him,  far-away  yet  piercing, 
as  if  she  wanted  to  imprint  his  image  upon  her 
memory.  She  never  laughed;  she  smiled. 
Her  hands  were  now  white  and  pretty,  and 


Life  333 

they  often  stroked  his  hair,  or  they  were 
folded  about  his  neck  or  his  arm.  It  was  de- 
lightful, but  it  was  not  enough.  He  proposed 
teaching  her  to  ride,  taking  a  trip  to  Paris, 
going  to  the  theatre,  or  for  a  motor-car  ride, 
but  it  was  always  No;  she  would  rather  be  at 
home  and  sit  still  and  look  at  him  without 
speaking.  The  only  thing  that  roused  her  was 
accounts  of  his  travels,  of  shooting  expedi- 
tions, of  exciting  sails  and  races.  She  would 
lie  on  the  sofa  with  closed  eyes,  her  hands 
clasped  behind  her  head,  smiling  and  saying 
every  now  and  then:  "Go  on!  It's  lovely!" 
Once  she  said:  "Have  you  ever  shot  an 
eagle?" 

"Yes,  once." 

"Did  it  cry  when  it  was  struck  up  in  the 
air?" 

"I  shot  it  with  a  bullet.  I  didn't  hear 
whether  it  made  any  sound.  But  it  scratched 
me  badly  on  the  hand.  There's  the  mark 
still." 

She  took  his  hand  and  kissed  the  white  scar 
left  by  the  bird's  claws,  then  lay  back  on  the 
cushion  and  looked  up  at  the  ceiling. 


334  Life 

,  "There  are  people  who  believe  that  after 
death  one  can  be  what  one  likes,"  she  said 
presently.  "A  bird,  for  instance.  Suppose 
they  were  right?" 

"Well,  what  then?" 

"I  was  thinking  of  mother.  If  she  could 
choose,  perhaps  she  would  be  sailing  about 
somewhere  or  other  in  the  clouds  like  an 
eagle." 

Reidar  was  walking  up  and  down  the  room 
in  the  lamplight.  He  looked  at  her  askance 
and  did  not  know  what  to  answer.  She  was 
once  more  in  regions  to  which  he  was  a 
stranger. 

When  Astrid  was  alone  at  home,  she  would 
say  to  herself:  "All  this  about  mother  can 
only  be  a  morbid  fancy."  But  then  she  would 
shake  her  head.  Years  before  she  had  begun 
to  say  her  evening  prayers  to  the  dead  mother 
whom  she  missed,  and  the  mother  had  become 
like  a  living  being  to  her,  a  voice  within  her  to 
comfort  her  and  guide  her.  She  knew  now 
that  it  had  been  her  mother  who  wanted  her 
to  go  to  the  mountains  at  Easter,  who  encour- 
aged her  to  love  Reidar;  and  the  more  there 


Life  335 

was  that  bound  her  to  the  dead  mother,  the 
greater  desire  did  she  feel  to  share  her  fate. 
It  was  going  to  happen  now.  She  had  lived 
as  her  mother  had  lived;  she  must  die  for  the 
same  reason,  and  she  supposed  in  the  same 
way.  There  was  no  help  for  that.  And  the 
nearer  the  time  came,  the  more  she  felt  her- 
self one  with  the  dead.  She  recalled  one  little 
thing  after  another,  and  involuntarily  began 
to  do  the  same.  She  sat  at  the  window  one 
day,  looking  at  the  sun,  and  she  remembered 
that  her  mother  had  prayed  to  it  when  other 
people  were  going  to  church;  and  she  folded 
her  own  hands.  She  hunted  up  the  old  flute, 
and  would  sit  playing  it  for  a  long  time  in  the 
quiet  house.  She  remembered  her  mother's 
last  sail,  and  Reidar's  boat  on  the  beach  be- 
came a  friend  to  whom  she  often  went.  There 
were  times,  indeed,  when  she  was  no  longer 
certain  whether  her  mother  and  she  were  not 
the  same  person. 

Then  one  day  Fru  Bang  came  with  an  elder- 
ly man  whom  she  introduced  as  a  friend,  Dr. 
Falk.  Astrid  suspected  a  plot,  and  dared  not 
look  him  in  the  face,  although  he  was  kind  and 


336  Life 

only  spoke  on  matters  of  general  interest ;  but 
when  they  were  gone,  she  remained  sitting 
lost  in  thought,  with  her  usual  smile.  There 
was  no  putting  it  off  any  longer.  When 
Reidar  came  home,  she  looked  closely  at  him, 
but  noticed  nothing  unusual.  She  was  glad, 
and  that  evening  she  promised  to  go  with  him 
to  the  mountains,  to  Paris,  wherever  he  liked. 
She  was  well  now.  He  seemed  delighted,  but 
now  and  then  looked  curiously  at  her  when  she 
was  not  looking. 

That  night  she  slept  upon  his  shoulder. 
She  listened  to  the  beating  of  a  heart  that 
seemed  strong  enough  to  beat  for  ever;  and 
now  and  then  she  passed  her  hand  softly  over 
his  hair. 

In  the  morning,  when  he  bent  over  her  as 
usual  in  bed  to  say  good-bye  before  going  to 
the  office,  she  held  his  face  before  her  for  a 
long  time,  as  if  she  were  trying  to  take  in  his 
features  and  remember  them. 

"Good-bye,  dear!" 

"Good-bye,  Astrid!  I'll  telephone  from 
the  office  some  time  during  the  morning." 


Life  337, 

His  steps  died  away,  and  she  lay  listening  to 
them  until  they  ceased. 

It  was  a  grey  autumn  day,  with  gusts  of 
wind  darkening  the  surface  of  the  water;  and 
when  Astrid,  later  in  the  morning,  asked  the 
man  to  get  the  boat  ready,  he  hesitated  and 
proposed  going  with  her. 

"No,"  said  Astrid.  "I'm  going  to  fetch  my 
husband;  and  you  know  I'm  a  sailor." 

The  man,  an  elderly,  grey-bearded  man,  did 
at  last  as  she  desired,  but  kept  looking  up  at 
the  grey  bank  of  cloud  in  the  north. 

At  last  she  was  in  the  boat,  the  sails  filled, 
and  she  sped  across  the  bay.  Astrid  was  well 
wrapped  up  and  held  the  rudder,  while  the 
wind  ruffled  her  hair.  She  looked  back  smil- 
ing to  the  shore,  where  the  man  stood  watch- 
ing her.  He  could  see  now.  Gusts  of  wind 
took  the  sails,  but  it  was  too  early  yet,  and 
she  stood  out  over  the  fjord.  A  large  steamer 
came  towards  her,  but  she  would  pass  that. 
The  gulls  cried  and  sailed  on  the  wind.  She 
remembered  the  little  kitchen  with  the  smells 
from  the  back  yard.  Now  she  drew  deep 
breaths  of  the  fresh  sea- wind,  and  felt  her  face 


338  Life 

glow  with  the  salt  spray.  She  looked  at  the 
sky  with  its  grey,  rolling  clouds,  where  storm 
and  sunshine  would  always  follow  one  an- 
other, and  beyond  lay  hills  and  mountains  al- 
ready white  with  snow.  Easter,  youth,  a  man 
in  the  air  on  skis! 

Suddenly  she  started.  High  up  there  was 
a  grey  streak  in  the  clouds.  It  was  a  solitary 
eagle.  Did  it  see  her? 

Later  that  morning  Reidar  was  standing  in 
his  office  dictating  a  letter,  and  strolled  to  the 
window  for  a  moment  to  consider.  He  looked 
across  the  open  square  towards  the  cavalry 
barracks,  and  noticed  a  troop  of  soldiers  in 
white  jackets  just  turning  into  the  square  on 
their  steaming  horses.  Then  he  heard  the 
tramp  of  hoofs  and  the  calls  of  the  men. 

"Telephone!"  said  a  voice  behind  him.  He 
went  and  put  the  apparatus  to  his  ear.  It 
was  the  housekeeper's  voice. 

"What?  What?"  And  a  little  later: 
"Your  mistress?  When?" 

The  voice  still  went  on,  and  suddenly  he 
turned  pale.  The  hand  holding  the  apparatus 


Life  339 

trembled,  but  he  kept  it  to  his  ear  and  went 
on  listening.  "Send  the  car!"  he  said  at  last 
and  rang  off. 

He  woulo1  not  make  a  display  of  his  emo- 
tion before  his  clerks,  and  therefore  forced 
himself  to  continue  the  dictation  of  his  letter. 
The  motor-car  must  soon  be  there.  But  its 
horn  had  not  sounded  when  he  had  finished, 
so  he  began  to  dictate  another  letter.  Once 
more  he  had  a  feeling  of  something  invisible 
that  wanted  to  force  him  on  to  his  knees,  but 
he  would  try  to  stand. 

At  last  the  horn  sounded,  and  he  took  up 
his  hat  and  hurried  down.  A  few  questions 
put  to  the  chauffeur  were  enough.  He  got  in 
and  pressed  his  hat  down  upon  his  forehead; 
and  the  yellow  car  started,  turned  the  corner, 
and  sped  more  and  more  quickly  through  the 
town. 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY,  LOS  ANGELES 

COLLEGE  LIBRARY 

This  book  is  due  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


Book  Slip-25m-9,'60(.B293684)4280 


UCLA-College  Library 

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